Fate: FINAL
by Vegeta the 3rd
Summary: "The 50 Year War" has passed, but another war is on the brink of horizon. To those that know only of the battle for regents, it will be known as "The War of the Lions". For the selective few Summoners, their comrades, and the Zodiac Braves... it will be known as "The Holy Grail War".
1. Zero Campaign

Fate: FINAL

Zero Campaign

_I lost direction that day; not only to where I was going in this road, but also the direction of my cause. My time serving a military company was short, yet so fulfilling, up until our last moments. Our battles had been far along the region of Igros, but our mission was simple; to quell the uprising of the Death Corps' fighters, through peaceful means if possible._

_But even then, it felt cruel to strike down able men at the close of the 50 Year War. Their demands were made into vast outcries for their own credit for serving in the war. Although some of my colleagues didn't agree to such lenient loans (most particularly Algus Sadalfas), I would have given them everything and my name in a heartbeat if that was enough to satisfy them. They were stubborn and proud, and didn't believe that I, bastard child of Balbanes Beoulve, would say anything that would reflect what my brothers truly felt._

_The feeling was mutual; I didn't believe anything they said either. That is, until Fort Ziekden._

_It wasn't so much of a surprise to see Algus pull the trigger; he said before that he was once a high standing member of a noble family akin to ours before falling from grace. Everything he did was to try and get ahead, including stepping over the people he saw below him – like Delita. I refused to put up with his behavior any longer and dismissed him. That decision came back to haunt me it seemed, and as unsurprising as it was, it was still dreadful._

_But Zalbag… he was someone I thought to believe held true to the ideals of a knight, as well as our father. It turns out that he wanted to eradicate all of the Death Corps knights from the root, and would willingly kill a foster sister just to save face. What difference did blood make? Teta was a sister to me as she was to Delita, who may have very well been a brother to me in all but blood!_

_So shocked was I in seeing these action replay in my head that I didn't even notice Delita charging head first to Algus, sword already drawn. In his few days' absence, the blond knight hadn't changed much. He was then downed in silver knight armor over his red squire's cuirass, and still reacted unsure about getting close into a battle himself if he couldn't get a shot of his crossbow. He flinched as Delita's sword struck him, and barked orders to seize and detain him while reaching for a potion. Knowing Delita, he wouldn't stop until everyone in the fort was dead._

_That included me; he threatened me as such during the fight._

_No… it wasn't a fight. It was a slaughter. It made me ashamed of the fact that our own enemies were fellow Hokuten but there was little to be done about it at the time, as it was nothing but pure chaos at the fort. My own men attacked in response of the knights ganging up on Delita, and managed to divert their attention enough for him to push forward. Hokuten witches were on standby casting ice spell after ice spell, summoning the equivalent of a hailstorm upon us._

_Leon was the first to join the fray. He was also the first to die._

_I vaguely recalled digging my hands over piles of snow to pull the thief out. I could only get the face out but I knew from his drained color and bloodied head from ice shards that he was dead, already morphing into a crystal. In my hurried haste for Delita's sake, I neglected to think the possibility of bringing along Claire our priest or Monica our chemist, without so much as a phoenix feather to revive him._

_I failed him, and I felt that in the end, he thought he deserved this. A thief was not an honest profession as they take money and equipment from their enemies, with questionable results. Leon was considered a hassle by the rest of the company because of his debts and one-too-many-drinks at the pub. I was strict on him for our image's sake, and to try and get the team to work together, but I always had faith in Leon for being a valued team member. He was a true and steadfast man that was always dependable in battle. I never told him that, and as far as I can tell, he probably died thinking he never reached the expectations he displaced me with._

_One by one, bodies started to fall; knights of the Hokuten that were overpowered by Delita and Comet, witches exhausting themselves as Aqua shooting at them to stop their concentration, and Algus multitasking between steeping back, giving commands, digging his pouch for potions and firing arrows. I could only sit their dumbly cradling Leon's decomposing head wondering how all of this went wrong._

_It wasn't until Algus taunted me directly, along the lines of being too sentimental for my own good, did I break out of my stupor and fought back. I was suddenly clear of my confusion and only wanted to assist Delita, my friend and brother, to end the life that endangers my family and company._

_If I had come sooner, I probably could have saved Comet from a similar fate to Teta and Leon. His body had suffered one too many ice spells and his arm, already frosted over, shattered like glass when a knight slammed his sword's flat end like a hammer. His pain wretched scream shook me to the very core, but despite that, he managed to throw one more punch at his offender, which turned into a grapple hold from the incoming blizzard that banked him._

_Comet suited well as a monk for his bravery and ingenuity. He was always alongside myself and Delita in skirmishes against monsters and Death Corps, and was one I could call my second-in-command regarding the other cadets. He was also one of the few that shared my opinion in this mission was unnecessarily long. Delita and I shared leadership in the company, and Algus was merely a guest, so I put a lot of my trust on Comet to help keep the team rallied and organized during my absence with the issues of the Death Corps, as a trainer and friend._

_He saw me stop and cry his name. Despite the blood and ice, he smiled and said to me "It's been an honor," before he and the knight were frozen over. It has been, Comet. More than you could have ever known._

_I focused on attacking the knight that attempted to flank Delita. The last of the witches had fallen to the snowfields dead. Aqua, the daring archer, had slumped to the snow in exhaustion and no little amount of hypothermia. She managed to put on a brave face, all else considering, and after catching her breath, sought after Algus who climbed up to the wooden bridge from a raging Delita. Her shot was well timed and caught the string of his item pouch. Before he knew what happened all the potions spilled and fell over the tall bridge, breaking their contents over the snowfields. Algus did nothing but stare in shock before turning to Aqua and fired. The arrow pierced her skull as it did Teta's heart. Her face froze at her accomplished smile._

_I cringed and held back tears to another death. Aqua was such a spirited and friendly young woman, shy amongst social gatherings but focused in her archery. She was especially nervous towards everyone to a point, especially me and the wizard Luke. It turned out she had affections for Luke, but was unable to let him know, let alone take any help in trying to express that fact to him. I believed that a well working troop means that anyone can feel free to trust each other, even love one another, and I was more than welcoming for Aqua's feelings. Yet again, I let things go on unsaid or unexplored, all to my own immaturity and brashness._

_I savagely finished off the knight with a renewed rage stirring inside me. All I could think that my sword was soaked in blood and it craved for more. I'd have Algus for this, even if Delita would have to stop me!_

_My timing couldn't have been any better; Algus had aimed his bow gun point blank at my friend. The two of them were exhausted and tired from their continued bout, the rush of adrenaline long since worn off._

_Delita's vengeance for his sister was torn by being so close to the body in question. Algus was fiddling for his last remaining potions but struggled as the pain began to flare up; even though potions can effectively cure wounds and restore the body, they were best not to be used continuously because the body could over-exert itself._

_He showed a sign of weakness, and that was my opening. I managed to close the distance between and strike him before he could fire another bolt, and leave a gash from his shoulder to his back. It was a fatal blow, and he knew it._

_"Curse… you weaklings…" he choked. "How could I have lost-…?"_

_That was all he could muster, before staggering and slipping in his step. He fell off the bridge from the side and landed hard in the snow below us. The white that filled the fort was slowly seeping of red blood from not only Algus' body, but everyone else. Delita and I were the only survivors of that fight. Never before had we partaken in such a bloodbath._

_Leon… Comet… Aqua… they all put their trust in me, died one by one, and I failed them. I even failed my brother Delita; not in his own demise, but of his sister's. As we confirmed Algus was no more, Delita knelt to Teta's body and embraced her, coping with the loss. I wasn't sure what would happen to us or our troop, now that we attacked our own army's men and lost half of ours, but I felt Delita at the moment needed closure and peace, if nothing else._

_Things weren't meant to go that way._

_It was faint and subtle, but I could tell right away there was a surge of smoke: bomb powder. The Death Corp knight from before must have ignited it during the battle, willing to take all of us with him. I tried to warn Delita of the fort, but the explosion blew me away and drowned my voice. He didn't seem to notice or care the burning fort before him. Again I tried to call to him, but…_

_The fire burned everything, and for the longest time all I saw was that light of the towering flame. I know not of what has become of the rest of the Hokuten, my troops, or my family. There were no bodies found after the fire, and from what I heard in later rumors, the Beoulve house simply acknowledged the Death Corps were no more and left it at that, with the reluctant loss of most of their own forces._

_I wanted to amend my mistake. I wanted to try and renegotiate to Wiegraf and spare his sister, to give the Death Corps the reward they all deserved for their service. I wanted to confront my brothers on the injustice they committed and demand them to heed to their rights._

_But I couldn't do anything… how could I? The past cannot be changed and the Death Corps was most likely disbanded if Zalbag fought off Wiegraf's unit. The thought of seeing my brothers again after that experience filled me with a black dread. It hurt me to not say anything to Alma, but what could have I said? "I'm sorry, but Delita and Teta are dead and there was nothing I could have done otherwise because our brothers preferred status over family."_

_So I ran… and disappeared without a trace._

* * *

The cloaked man sat unmoving in his seat by a fire. The orange-yellow light in front of him flickered to view a red and white buttoned cloak with a pointed plume hat, decorated with a white feather quill. His face was wrinkled with age, but showed a compassionate understanding to the youth that spoke his tale to him. His hands fiddled with the cane positioned in front of him, pondering.

"So that's what happened," the red-clothed man said. "How long ago was this again?"

"I believe a month," the young man answered quietly.

"So you threw away your own title of nobility just like that?" he asked slowly. "Anyone else would stick to their wealth and power, even if disillusioned of their morals."

The young man shook his head, holding the blanket closer over his body to fight the night cold. "And what if I did that as well? Live the rest of my life as a lie? Delita wouldn't want that, and neither would Alma… or father."

"You'd be surprised how many would be willing to turn the other way."

"If I were like them, then I wouldn't be here… or questioning myself about what I did."

The man in red grinned, his lips twitching upward slightly. "Your actions are far nobler than the namesakes of today."

"No, they're not," he shook his head. "I ran away in fear and have no plan of what to do now."

Silence stretched between the two men, watching the campfire. The red-clothed man stroked his chin in thought. "Perhaps I can offer a proposal."

The young man's expression furrowed. "What sort of proposal?"

"From the sound of your story, you're pretty adept in training your body as a knight. Have you considered learning to expand your mind like that of a Summoner?"

"Summoner?"

"Well, not like the ones you've heard of anyway," the man fiddled his cane as he rambled. "They can certainly bring out astral beings called espers to fight. But only for a standard and precise command like 'attack my enemy' before disappearing as soon as they come. Real Summoners have limitless potential in their magic, able to hammer down familiars or servants into control and continuously fight for them. Along with that, they can practice their own unique style of magic. It was because of that we once went under the name of 'Magus', but the practice and reputation thinned out over time, and people only recall one kind of Summoner."

The young man said nothing for a long time, and got an equally long pause after he asked, "Why offer me this?"

"You just said you are confused as to what to do with your future, and I don't have much to do in my spare time either. That aside, I see a flame in you. You've been born and brought up in the society of nobles, yet you are empathetic towards those of the common class. You have a lot of potential to break down the boundaries, and all you need is a little help."

The red-and-white magician stood up from the ground, towering over the sitting boy before him. "It is a long and difficult road, but it is also an opportunity as rare and revered as that of the holy knight prestige. If you follow my tutelage, you will understand magic most other classes wouldn't even dream of using, let alone understanding. But that's only if you stay true and fast to my word. Knowing this, will you still offer yourself as my pupil?"

The two of them stared at one another as the flames crackled. Green analytic eyes into brown hopeless ones; the latter slowly glinted with resolve that flared to the rest of the body.

"I do," the young man decided, rising up to be closer to the mage's height. "Please teach me, Akamun."

"Glad to hear it," Akamun smiled. "Although we may have to change your name; Beoulve is a rather well known and 'respected' name, as I hear."

"I've been thinking about that as well," he admitted. "And I was considering to use my mother's maiden name; Lugria."

"Is that so? Well then, let us begin our training, Ramza Lugria."

Akamun's grin briefly turned predatory, as he shook hands with the former Beoulve, cementing a partnership that would turn Ivalice upside down in the coming days.


	2. First Campaign

Disclaimer: Final Fantasy Tactics is copyrighted to Square Enix. Fate/Stay Night is copyrighted to Type Moon. Anything done here is for fun and creative liberties to mix the two fandoms together without worry of lawsuit. Also, the picture (minus the title added on via Paint) used for the cover is drawn by 00lin00 of the deviantart website, asked with permission to be used here.

Fate: FINAL

First Campaign

_A city is bustling with people; all without a care in the world. A relic of old times but also a peaceful calm, where people trusted a religion that watched over them diligently even though the name faded over time._

Ramza…

_A young servant woman devotes herself to training, pausing as a lord interrupts her for attention. Words are exchanged, leaving the woman confused and indecisive._

Ramza…

_A group of people gather, surrounding a dozen individuals and a charismatic preacher. Cheers and praises are made to the preacher's words. One woman simply stares, intently and with veiled concern…_

"Ramza?"

Ramza finally stirred, noticing a hand shaking his shoulder. "Huh?"

The squire next to him, in gleaming bronze armor over a brown tunic, smiled shyly. The two of them were sitting on a bench within a hallway of a church. "You've been asleep for an hour now. If you keep dozing off like that, the lord will throw a fit."

"Sorry Rad, it's just been a long trip to here," Ramza explained, moving his hand cover a brief yawn. "It hasn't helped that we waited nearly as long, correct?"

"Nearly two hours, yes. The lady knight Oaks insists we came much too early for the princess's convenience."

"She certainly was not keen on our arrival, then?"

"It's probably the distinction of order. I've heard she's one of the best Holy Knights the St. Konoe Hokuten Knights have to offer, and is in charge of the guard for the princess. Lord Gaffgarion, on the other hand, is a war veteran from the Fifty Year War and one of the few Dark Knights left in all of Ivalice. You know as well as I do he's about as shady and shrewd as you would expect from a thief."

"It's an Order and Chaos conflict with them, I'm sure."

"I think Lord Gafgarion came here early just to spite the lady," Rad admitted.

Ramza nodded. "Perhaps… or he's just that anxious on the job itself."

"Yes, that sounds more likely."

They both looked over down the hall, where their boss sat on a chair by the other side of the door between them. Coated nearly all in dark armor with feathery shoulder pads, his normally white wrinkled face was covered over the shadow of his open helmet. He looked to have indomitable patience in his posture, but merely hid it; both his men could see how tense his crossed arms were and the tapping notion his finger made. Occasionally he would switch between that and tapping his metal boot to the ground, but it was evident that Gafgarion's tolerance was waning.

Ramza's memory caught up to speed as he was fully roused. It was his first official job since Ziekden over a year ago. It felt like a lifetime of training under Akamun before parting ways. He insisted that events were progressing further beyond what he predicted (or so he said), and needed to do this alone. As for Ramza, he knew not everything that was taught, but plenty enough to learn the rest on his own experience.

So with no interest to back to Igros, and a steady refusal to join the Southern Sky, he was convinced into mercenary work for starters, but for only honest pay and working behind the sidelines. He was approached by Gaff Gafgarion, who was looking for a skilled wizard to start his new mercenary troop along with his squire Rad. Ramza agreed, and their career started of with small skirmishes and guarding roles.

The first job they took was to stop a monster outbreak near the Zekilus Desert, before the violent minotaurs would march up to Lesalia City. The next was a delivery escort of goods to a Glabados church, consisting mostly of holy tomes and relics for those preparing for a pilgrimage. Gafgarion bitterly claimed both of them to be small time jobs; the former for being too early of a warning for alarm, the latter for having to do something for the church that feels entitled to order others do instead.

The third job - their current one - is something Gafgarion claimed to be their first real job, and Ramza couldn't argue with that. He didn't say who exactly enlisted them to escort the princess, but it would probably be of the same group that saw that the St. Konoe knights, better known as the Lionsguard, needed assistance. After all, with both Larg and Goltana becoming restless in asserting their roles as regents for either Prince Orianas or Princess Ovelia respectively, anyone would see fit to try and tip the favor to either of the lords. That would mean killing off one of the heirs.

That is where Gafgarion's mercenaries, "Shadow Company" came in; their job is to protect Princess Ovelia on her pilgrimage to Igros Castle to try and arrange negotiation with Larg. While Ramza was not thrilled to have to go back there, he was assured by Gaff that no one would recognize him if he kept himself aloof and obscure as always. After all, no one could recognize him in his flowing cloak with hood as opposed to his Beoulve tunic from a year ago.

While the job still sounded just as tedious as the previous job, Gafgarion assured there was a lot of pay for this concerning the princess's well being.

"What is the princess doing all this time?" Ramza asked after several tense minutes.

"Praying, I believe," Rad shrugged. "She lived in this monastery for a long while so she must be finishing her priest training."

"She's taking her sweet time, that's what's she's doing," Gaff snapped from his position. He was about to move and finally demand the girl, princess or not, to get a move on when his team wizard rose from his seat. "And where are you going?"

"We won't be leaving for a while, but there's something I want to check before we do."

"Like what?" Rad asked.

"A magical disturbance, I believe," Ramza answered. "I know it's somewhere in this church, at least."

"Don't tell me you're into studying more than a few bloody battles?"

"Battles have no preference to me, sir. I'm a curious learner, but also a mercenary like you."

Gaff stared at him for a long moment before nodding. "You have five minutes. Any more than that and you'll have to either catch up or consider yourself dismissed from the company. And the princess is leaving too, whether she likes it or not."

Ramza gave a knowing bow and hurried off. He was grateful for his boss' lenience for this vague favor, and knew he probably wouldn't wonder around on his own like that again, let alone in the Orbonne Monastery. Ever since the troop first collectively entered in the monastery, he felt a strong magical disturbance within, but couldn't tell from where or what it was. He was intent to find out though.

He briefly recalled a bit of Akamun's training. Sensing mana was one of the more fundamental yet underestimated skills of a summoner's repertoire, because any other mage worth their robes can do it with little effort. Most mages tend to treat it as a heightened reflex when other mages prepare their spells, which by then was often too little too late. Sensing mana flowing from a caster obviously chanting was redundant. Sensing mana from an unknown source that had gone too long or consistent to be a spell was an opportunity. In some cases, it might even work to find another person if they have a distinctive magical nature around them.

"Now where are you?" Ramza asked aloud, wandering further into the church. With only his hot-cold sense to go for him, he willingly searched the church blind as he wandered further and deeper inside. Each step further down was a step into an unfamiliar area, and for some reason the magus felt increasingly worried and anxious of what he may find.

He briefly considered turning back and lying to Gafgarion about finding the source of magic. But for a strange reason, he felt strongly inclined to find it, as if beckoned towards it. He also pondered how deep Orbonne went after climbing the second stairway below, but the thoughts were quickly pushed aside as he saw the vast amount of books in a bookshelf-oriented labyrinth. After staring in shocked amazement, the magus pressed forward to the magic source; he could tell it was close now.

As he neared the source, he realized the trouble of finding it; it was a tome perhaps? In this collection? Never mind the fact that he would have to walk around bookshelves sorted in non-conforming manners, but he would need all night and the good part of the next day to accurately search through all these books. He had less than three minutes.

Ramza tried feeling the books he passed with a quick finger over them to narrow the search. He walked on, briefly reading the titles to see if there was a sort of clue available. From their bulk and volume numbers, he assumed them to be encyclopedias or history tomes. An interesting note, but didn't help his search much.

He considered hurrying over to Gaff, but the fact the source was so close pressed him to find it. Turning the corner, he now walked between two bookshelves, and searched both sides critically. In any other situation, he would have paced and looked more thoroughly, but he didn't have the leisure.

It was ironic that it was his rush to lead him to the source. Ramza tripped while finger tracing book for magic, causing his hands to flail and topple down a good number of books. Cursing his luck, he tried his best rearranging the books by name and shelf. He felt he would be in trouble with Gaff later, but he'd rather not upset the church priest with his mess.

He was about halfway cleaning the books when he reached for the book he was searching for; one that was laid flat with the pages against the floor. The book itself looked as if worn out in rusted bronze, with a square buckle in the middle. The title on the spine could be read as "Germonique Scriptures".

"Odd book to find in history," Ramza brielfly mused, and picked it up. From under the pages, a stone was revealed, reflecting light softly off its surface. Curious, Ramza picked it up as well to examine it closer.

The stone had an irregular feel to him; it was tear-shaped, with a sea blue hue. Upon closer examination, it had a symbol etched within the stone. He recognized it as the marking for the zodiac sign Virgo.

"And what an odder stone to find here," Ramza added. There was no doubt; the magic sensation he felt was coming from this stone. As for why, he wasn't sure, but maybe if he asked the priest of this?

Well, first things first. He would have to hurry back to Gaff and Rad.

After quickly re-shelving the rest of the books, he hurried out of the maze and to the stairs with the scriptures and stone. As he approached the staircase to ground level, he paused behind the door. He could sense a strong tension from upstairs and from there new mana signatures; one of them giving more of a reaction than he felt from the Virgo stone. Perhaps it belonged to wizard, or an evoker? Or a summoner?

"No!" a feminine voice cried. "Unhand me!"

"Do not dally, princess," another female scolded, sound cold and brutal. "Your cooperation is directly tied to how many lives die tonight."

"I will not cooperate with the likes of brigands!" the first voice, dubbed as the princess, said. "I must head to Igros and speak to Lord Larg! The peace of our country is dependent on this!"

"I couldn't agree more; which is exactly _why_ you are not to go there."

Ovelia's next words were quickly silenced to a surprised gasp, along with the sound of hit flesh.

Ramza's blood ran cold from under his hooded cloak; the princess was being abducted, but where were her knights? Where were Gaffgarion and Rad?

"Best hurry now; 'Goltana's men' aren't going to hold them off much longer; not with Agrias and Gaffgarion fighting them."

"Yes, ma'am!" A chorus of soldiers replied; it was worse than Ramza thought.

He had been channeling his mana for a spell since he eavesdropped the conversation, skipping the words of empowerment for time and the need of surprise. It was a unique spell taught by Akamun and had no preference to the other schools of magic; while the damage won't likely kill them in one hit, it will certainly startle them at the prospect of unknown, or rather _forgotten_, magic.

With the magic ready, he immediately kicked the door open (earning a surprised "What the-?" from one of them) and let loose his magic. "_Aero_!"

The hallway echoed with the sound of billowing wind, and the silver gust that appeared between them was the cause of it. The kidnappers (four in total, excluding Olivia) quickly shielded their eyes from the small storm and held their ground. Blinded by the surprise attack, Ramza was almost able to sneak away unnoticed with the princess in his care.

That is, until the wind died out via snap of fingers, nearly as soon as it was summoned.

"Nice try, but an amateur spell won't work on me."

The apprentice summoner was immediately pelted by a blast of pure prana at his backside. Unsuspecting and surprised, he collapsed hard to the ground with the princess in tow, and could only turn around to see the brigands.

He first noticed the woman who blasted him; the lingering sign of mana fired from her finger was clear enough. Her skin was fairly pale, with violent blue eyes and long black hair in pig tails falling past her shoulders. She wore a red robe that flowed from her wide sleeves to her lower kneecaps, and failed to hide her figure. The robe had lines open around the lower sides for more space for the legs, probably for running. He could tell by her strong appearance and his mana sense that this was a magus, and one far more competent than himself.

The rest of her entourage quickly gathered around her. They stopped and stared at the enemy before them, yet making no attempt towards the Princess next to the mercenary.

However, as the pause grew, they found themselves staring at Ramza, and vice versa. He recalled particularly how the chemist and white mage looked the same, and only took a moment longer to figure out who the geomancer was. He knew them, _remembered them,_ and had long assumed the worst to have happened to them the last few years. The long pause did nothing to help with this startling revelation.

Nor the fact the realization was mutual. The chemist finally broke the silence with a disbelieving tone. "Ramza?"

The magus looked puzzled. "'Ramza'? The same one that master said was likely dead?"

The geomancer gave a mirthless smirk. "Well, by all accounts, your master should have been dead as well." The magus was quickly silenced but remained focused.

Ramza frowned but acknowledged the mage's comrades as he slowly rose himself to sitting position. "Luke. Monica. Claire. It's been a while."

"Yes," The priest Claire nodded neutrally. "About a year at least."

"We'd assumed you died too," Luke the geomancer added. "But I guess you were one of the lucky ones and ran away while everyone else was busy killing each other."

Ramza didn't miss the barb in that sarcastic comment. "What happened in Ziekden wasn't intended-"

"You're damn right it wasn't intended!" Luke snapped. "Never mind the fact our company nearly dissolved after fighting Algus and the other Hokuten, but Aqua and Comet are dead because of your screw up! The rest of us were disbanded and disserted because your last battle haunted us like a curse! Aren't you supposed to be a Beoulve, a great fighter amongst a line of noble fighters? Balbanes had it, Zalbag has it; hell, even _Dycedarg_ has it! But what about _you?_ What makes you think you're so worthy of being a damn Beoulve?"

The apprentice summoner sighed. "I never saw myself worthy, especially after Ziekden. For that reason I decided not to go back to Igros and let them assume I died as well. Let them keep their titles and rank. I want no part of it anymore."

"But you fought so valiantly for the Hokuten and Beoulve name before," Claire said. "Was that all for naught?"

"I fought for a disillusioned mission meant to bring fairness to the knights that fought in the 50 Year War. I wanted to negotiate peace, not slay them like dogs."

"So when you didn't get your way, you ran off," Luke spat. "Guess those Death Corp soldiers were right; you _were_ just some naïve boy in over his head."

Ramza sighed; he didn't blame his former comrades to be slightly hostile to him. He deserved it. Regardless of the circumstance, he was glad to see them again. "I may have been naïve, but I like to think all our time together was worthwhile, even with Leon."

From the varied reactions of the old Hokuten knights, they were all surprised he remembered the team thief. Luke in general looked infuriated at the mention of the name. "At least _one_good thing came out from that battle." The silence that followed after was bitter and tense.

"If you're all done having your little reunion," the black haired woman finally spoke, charging mana to her finger again. "We are in need of that princess there, who is as much of an enemy to Igros as you are. So do her and yourself both a favor and just give her to us so you can forget this ever happened."

Ramza could tell the woman wasn't being perfectly clear, but didn't have to ponder for long. Monica, probably the only one still concerned of their old leader, spoke out to her. "But Caster, you can't-"

"Quiet!" the woman snapped, causing the chemist to flinch. "Have you all forgotten that Master is waiting?"

Ramza had too much to worry about to dwell on now, particularly Ovelia's safety. He raised his hood over his head and took a couple steps back, hoping not to alarm the others of his steady retreat. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry Luke."

"Yeah… I'm sorry too." The geomancer raised his hands slightly, and Ramza could see a slight aura radiating from them. "But we're going to need to take that princess off your hands. Part of our job, you know."

"Can't allow that," the apprentice summoner said, subtly pulling out a dagger. "_My_ job is to protect her, after all."

At that moment, Caster fired her mana bullet again, and Ramza saw it clearly; a dark ball outlined in red. It was more of a curse than anything, meant to ail vitality upon contact. It was rather simple and effective as far as magic went, and given the woman's radiating power, she had enough mana to shoot him until unconsciousness.

It didn't help that Luke decided to bind him with his geomancy; the gravel and tiles between them morphed into gloves, ready to snatch and hold him in place as the blast came for him.

With reflexes that rivaled a ninja, the apprentice summoner side stepped away from the gravel and curse while flinging his knife straight towards the woman dubbed as Caster. She saw it coming and managed to side-step it while keeping focus of her mana for another shot. She couldn't dodge it completely so it managed to cut through the robe and nick the side of her arm. It was enough.

Immediately Caster lapsed in focus of her mana, flinching as if punched. The surprise of her dropping to the floor caught and spread to the entourage, giving a window of opportunity to Ramza. Immediately, he channeled magic again and slammed his hand to the floor. "_Quake_!"

The rumble and fissure was enough to topple part of the ceiling, creating a blockade of brick and rubble between Ramza and the kidnappers. He then scooped up the princess and attempted to run again, ignoring the particular curses uttered of a former comrade.

He then heard the hallway shake and rumble, likely from geomancy shifting the earth away. A moment later a whizzing sound came and he was nicked in the back again. Wheezing, he just let the force guide him a bit further with a jump and steadied himself upright. Caster was determined to take the princess, as were her comrades.

At this rate he won't get very far before they catch up.

Stumbling in his steps, he heard the Caster fire another shot. Reacting quickly, he cast his third spell to stop the arrow. "_Water_!"

A wave surged through the hallway and towards Caster's group. But when the magic bolt hit it, the water exploded from the horizontal splash, sending both groups flying away. Ramza expected (and hoped) for this reaction, so he was ready to use the boost to get ahead from the pursuers.

He hurried faster down the hallway, trying to ignore the hurried splashes behind him. He needed to let Gaffgarion and Agrias know about what was happening in the chapel. He couldn't handle his old army troop on his own, let alone Caster.

As he came to the steps to the back entrance, he saw someone already waiting and in gold armor. It was another Holy Knight. Perhaps part of Agrias' Lionsguard? And what was he doing with that old priest?

"Please, sir knight!" The elderly bald priest waved his arms and golden robes feebly before him. "The princess has already an escort! While I am more than thrilled to hear her having so many come to assist her pilgrimage, I insist you wait until meeting Lady Agrias."

Ramza, having crept closer to ask for assistance, had the feeling that this was Caster's 'master'. He was stuck and didn't have many options, either being exposed to the renegade knight or have his group catch up from behind. Best he could do at the moment was to sneak up from behind and take him down, while waiting for Gaffgarion and the others to return.

"I already know she will not agree with me or my 'help'," the knight said, his voice muffled under his helmet. "The princess needs to be under a caretaker for the duration of this war, and avoid her opposing regent at all cost."

"War?" the priest gasped, sharing the same horror Ramza himself was feeling. "You mean to say you'll use Ovelia to promote war?"

"She _will_ be used, yes, but only if you let her go to Igros. I merely wish to delay that for everyone's benefit."

"Except her own; why have your group rush in to apprehend her?"

"The princess is a tool ignorant of how the world really works. Every conscious choice she's made is simply the work of someone pulling her strings to their favor. I'm willing break that cycle and keep her away from all of Ivalice's corruption."

"Your words are sweet, but it is as you imply; many others make the claim to protect her but instead use her. What makes you any different?"

The knight mused for a moment, before responding, "Well, for starters, no one would know I was really here tonight."

The priest paled as white as his mustache and beard. "Wh-…what?"

"I apologize for the inconvenience, Father Simon, but we don't have much time before the Lionsguard and Shadow Company finish off Goltana's 'scouts'. It would be best for the princess' sake that no one knows who has taken her tonight. But rest assured…" Ramza heard a sword being drawn. "She's in good hands."

"NO!" the mercenary cried, setting the princess down before throwing a dagger with one hand and unleashing an Aero with the other; both aimed at the back of the knight.

To his credit, the knight managed to smack away the dagger with the flat end of his sword at the last moment. However, he didn't expect a burst of wind pushing him away from the still shocked priest and slam him to the wall behind him.

"Y-you!" Simon gasped, as the clocked Lugria rushed to his side. He then noticed Ovelia in his arms. "Is she-?"

"Out cold, but still breathing," Ramza shoved her into his arms. "Take her and get Agrias, before the others find her! Quickly!"

Simon gratefully took her and rushed to a corridor, no time to express thanks. The knight recovered and attempted to chase him, only for Ramza to intercept the sword swing with his daggers in a cross guard. After a brief deadlock, the two broke off with blades clashing and slashing, slight nicks and cuts on both their arms throughout.

The two eventually broke away at a reasonable distance, and the knight gauged between the knives and his own arms as if bemused. "Mage mashers? Interesting choice."

"The bane of magic," the apprentice summoner countered. "Works wonders against an overconfident wizard."

"I can imagine. However," the helmet-wearing knight held his sword steady, pointing toward his opponent. "I do not have time to play games."

Before Ramza knew it, a shadowy pulse emitted from the tip of the blade, released like a crossbow at the sound of the knight's voice; "_Gandr._" The apprentice wizard, too startled to effectively dodge or block, was pelted squarely in his chest. The force threw him across the hall, with his hood falling off his head and his mage mashers dropped.

One thought stood out clearly to Ramza when feeling the blast. _They're the same._

The knight seemed to pause, and remark to himself, "So you're still alive."

In a later date, Ramza would curse his luck and foolishness for allowing Caster's group to catch up, let alone in an unfavorable position. "Master!" she cried. "Stop him!"

"I will!" 'Master' replied, his eyes never leaving Ramza. "Find the priest! He's escaping with the princess!"

Caster gave a nod to her entourage, and they left ahead, leaving Caster to watch over her master fight. Ramza didn't know whether it was a good thing or a bad thing she wasn't partaking… he knew personally how strong of a magus she was.

Ramza drew another pair of mage mashers from his robe and charged at the knight, who parried his strikes. When the blades deadlocked again, the knight jumped back to re-align his sword for another Gandr. Ramza was ready this time and dispersed it with a swing of his dagger. He followed through with a downward swing of the dagger at the knight's chest, meeting his raised sword at the last moment.

Which left him in a favorable position for Ramza; with both arms lowered and blocking his strike, the apprentice summoner casually dropped his other dagger to finger point at the knight's helmet, point blank. A familiar glow of dark red was seen building at the fingertip, and judging by the startled reactions from his opponent and spectator, he had a feeling he was channeling it right.

The golden knight's breath hitched. "What…?"

The red robed woman was equally stunned. "That's-!"

"_Gandr._"

The blast exploded as the word was uttered, snapping the knight's head back as he was pushed several feet back and lost grip of his sword. The helmet, having covered the man's face in a cross-shaped guard, was blown clean off and bounced across the hall. Ramza quickly took advantage of this situation by stepping over the dropped sword so the stunned man couldn't reclaim it.

"Now talk!" he demanded, subtly building up for another Gandr. "Why are you trying to kidnap Princess Ovelia? What do you plan to do with her?"

"I can't tell you everything," the knight casually answered, pulling his head back upright. "Other than I can do something you can't, Ramza."

"How do you-?"

Ramza's voice died as he saw the face before him. The knight kept a neutral gaze, as his sleek brown hair and brown eyes came to view. It was just the same as Luke and the others. Even after assuming them long gone, he could remember them. He could remember this man just as clearly, despite the fact he saw him burn at Ziekden three years ago.

But… it couldn't be- "Delita?"

Delita said nothing, and simply stared.

The black haired Caster. His old Hokuten team. Delita leading them all… in kidnapping the princess. _What was going on?_

Before he could ask anything else, he sensed a burst of mana coming at him a moment too late. Turning to the source, being Caster whom he forgot about during the fight, he felt a much _stronger_ version of Gandr hit him. He barely compared the effects of fatigue to Demi before collapsing and losing consciousness.

As he struggled to stay awake, he could make Delita staring at him with the same unreadable expression, before saying "I'm sorry."

That was all Ramza could recall before seeing black.


	3. Second Campaign

Disclaimer: Final Fantasy Tactics is copyrighted to Square Enix. Fate/Stay Night is copyrighted to Type Moon. Anything done here is for fun and creative liberties to mix the two fandoms together without worry of lawsuit. Also, the picture (minus the title added on via Paint) used for the cover is drawn by 00lin00 of the deviantart website, asked with permission to be used here.

Fate: FINAL

Second Campaign

The first thing Ramza noticed as he came to was lying on the stone floor of the church; still on his side after Caster blasted him. He then noticed his arm being shook side to side by an armored hand, more urgent than gentle. He finally awoke to see three female knights looming over him. The one that shook him looked considerably older but still modestly alluring with her sharp facial features and orange hair. The two knights stood flanking her sides, and looked much like sisters in similar yet with a unique difference setting them apart; the one on the left had a stern gaze, the one on the right looked slightly anxious.

Ramza noticed Gaffgarion and Rad standing not too far from them, showing their same tame patience as when waiting for-

_The princess!_

The blonde wizard rose to his feet, but was pushed down by the same gauntlet that stirred him. It wasn't letting up either.

"So you're awake," the orange haired knight spoke. Ramza recognized it as Zalbag's 'scolding the squire' tone. "Where is Princess Ovelia?"

Considering she acted with authority and he heard rumors of a beautiful autumn-haired knight from the taverns… "Agrias Oaks, I presume?" Ramza asked.

"Answer the question," she responded.

"How long was I out?"

"Answer the question, _wizard_," she grit her teeth. "Where is the princess?"

Ramza had a feeling what was going on now. He left for a few minutes, presumably around the time the church was attacked and infiltrated. While Gaffgarion and Agrias fought them off at front, Delita's own squad came in from the back to capture the princess and leave before anyone knew what happened. For all Agrias knew, he was one of their allies and her only way to find out who could have taken her and why.

He could tell that Delita and the others had fled with Princess Ovelia. But… why would Delita join the South Sky?

Regarding the impatience Agrias was expressing, he sighed and answered truthfully, "I don't know."

The pressure on his arm increased immediately. The wizard barely kept in a grunt.

"Don't test my patience, boy!" Agrias snapped. "You were the only one absent of Gafgarion's party, the same time as the princess was kidnapped! You had a hand in this, and you know where she is."

Ramza coughed before speaking again. "Last I saw of her, the father priest was escorting her away from Delita's men-"

"So you know of them?" Her tone was slowly treading towards Dycedarg's 'punishing the rebel'. One wrong word and she would have all the reason to strike him where he laid.

"Let up, Oaks," his lord finally spoke. "You won't get his cooperation if you immediately smite him like that."

"This doesn't concern you Gafgarion."

"Yes, I suppose the inquisition of my team wizard the moment he's regained consciousness doesn't quite qualify for my business," the dark knight remarked sarcastically.

"Does it not concern you that your own wizard is likely a spy and traitor to your own troop?" she asked evenly.

"Should it? If such a thing were to happen, I'd personally congratulate the boy for taking initiative and planning a clever coup on me. Before I make him regret it with his life, anyway," the dark knight smirked. It quickly faded as he shrugged. "But, I know him better than that; he's too honest for his own good. I doubt he would have been a part of a kidnapping, but he'd sure as hell would stop one."

"I can concur with that, Sir Gafgarion."

The others looked up to see a familiar old priest walking to them, smiling behind his facial hair. He turned curtly to Agrias, with a touch of disappointment. "Now please, Lady Agrias, if you would let the boy go."

"But Father, this boy has-"

"-Saved my life and made a valiant effort to rescue the princess as well," he cut her off. "Anyone working with the kidnappers wouldn't go so far as to fight them off."

"But… he knew them! Surely he was their spy!"

Simon blinked curiously. "Do you have proof?"

"Proof?" the knight blanched. "What proof do I possibly need than what my eyes perceive before me?"

"What your ears receive is a start." The priest then turned to Ramza. "Tell me; what is your name?"

Ramza stared uncertainly to the old priest's eyes, seeing no ill contempt or bias that the Lionsguard were. "Ramza Lugria."

"What is your relationship with the men who kidnapped the princess?" the priest asked.

"I worked with them in a unit before, under the Hokuten. I had long thought them to be gone or dead and never imagined they'd join the Nanten. This incident was the first time I saw them since our group disbanded."

"A Hokuten joining the Nanten?" One of the sister knights whispered. "That's absurd."

"Improbable," Simon noted. "But not impossible. Did you recognize the holy knight that threatened me?"

"Not until I unveiled his helmet, no," Ramza admitted. "But I recognized Delita as soon as I did. It puzzles me as to why he would turn coat, let alone kidnap the princess."

"He's most likely Goltana's dog now," the dark knight pondered. "And he's no doubt doing what is in the best interest for the Black Lion party, and keeping their princess safe."

"Quite right," the priest agreed, turning to the now sheepish knight. "Well Agrias, I believe you have your proof; Ramza here is familiar with his old comrades, had tried to stop them, and is in no way affiliated with their current goals. You can release him now.

"Perhaps there's hope for the church yet," Gafgarion smirked. "If there are men like you who can see reason instead of calling every sword swing they make an act of _justice._"

"Still your tongue, cur!" Agrias shouted, having just relinquished her hold on Ramza.

Simon chuckled, neither insulted nor hearing Agrias' rebuttal. "Oh, I'm just a simple man of faith. I do not see myself above man or the holy one. Rather, Ajora was no different from you or me once upon a time."

"Surely you jest, Father!" One of the female knights smiled. "Ajora is the one who created so many miracles, like discovering the poisonous well in his town as a child! He was touched by the angels themselves!"

"Not to mention the leader of the Zodiac Braves!" her sister added. "Why, if not for him, Ivalice wouldn't be here today."

"Alicia, Lavian, stop this," Agrias scolded her knights. "Father Simon is well aware of Saint Ajora. Do not mistake him for talking down what everyone knows to be our savior."

"Yes…" Simon said softly. "Our savior…"

Ramza sighed, walking up to the priest. "Thank you, but it seems I couldn't keep the princess safe."

"The fault was equally mine, for nearly losing my life when three brigands cornered me," Simon reasoned. "But this man, Delita, was obviously prepared to have made this as silent an operation as possible. If not for you, it would have been just that."

"So, you know this man well?" Agrias propped again, but slightly less hostile.

"We were close," he answered, intent to keep his family name to himself. "Delita was very much my equal when in battle, though we were both squires at the time. He's gained a lot of power and influence over the last year it seems, if his ally Caster is any indication."

Simon's eyes widened slightly. "Caster?"

"Odd moniker," Gaff noted. "And judging by your tone, this man seemed to completely outclass you."

"_Woman,_ actually," Ramza corrected. "And yes, she did."

"Did you at least know what kind of spells she specialized in?" Rad suggested. "Black? White? Yin Yang?"

"All she fired was a curse shot several times, which seemed to be a mix of black and yin yang. On its own the spell's hardly threatening or powerful. But she was either toying with me, or making sure she didn't accidentally hit the princess while I was carrying her." The apprentice wizard winced as he rubbed the side of his head. "She really let loose that last shot though, after my battle with 'Master'."

"Master?" Simon repeated.

"It was what she called Delita. I'm not sure why."

"How did you find the kidnappers in the first place?" Agrias asked. "Where were you when Goltana's men attacked?"

"I was concerned of a magical disturbance somewhere in the church and searched for it at the lower levels," Ramza answered.

"Without the Father's permission?" Lavian asked surprised.

The blond wizard flushed, slightly embarrassed under the priest's critical eye. "I meant no ill intention of trespassing without permission, Father. I only meant to examine what was giving off the aura. I did let my lord know before I set off."

"And I had told Oaks here the same thing, but she wouldn't have any of it," Gaff remarked, taking secret pleasure at how the holy knight flushed and squirmed with frustration. "Which reminds me; what did you find?"

Recalling the whole venture, Ramza dug into his pack and revealed a tear-blue stone, briefly shining as light bounced off. Rad and the sister knights let out a gasp of awe at the sight. Simon was even more bewildered than before. Even Gaff looked amazed at the irregular jewel with a quirk of an eyebrow.

The moment of wonder ended when Agrias, recovering from her own surprised stupor, angrily snatched the stone from his palm.

"Where did you find this?" she demanded. "This stone is the birthright to princess Ovelia herself!"

"I didn't know!" Ramza quickly answered, with his arms up in defense. "I simply followed the mana signature to that stone!"

"I don't want any excuses! You disappear out of nowhere, happen along the Ovelia's Virgo stone, and find her while her escorts are fighting Goltana's men outside? It certainly isn't a coincidence!"

"Are we seriously going through this again, Oaks?" Gaff asked exasperated. "The boy tried to _save _your bloody princess, not _kidnap _her. He just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time, but managed to make the best of an otherwise horrid situation. If you have anyone to blame, blame yourself instead of taking it out on my men."

"Stay out of this, Gafgarion!"

"Agrias, that's enough," Simon cut in with finality.

The orange haired knight looked back in confusion. "But Father-!"

Simon reached over and reclaimed Virgo in her hand. "It is as Sir Gafgarion has said. Ramza's previous actions do not reflect the ones he made in regards of Ovelia's safety. If you feel shame of your own inability, I understand. However, it is not becoming or healthy to lash out at others who only offered to help."

Agrias flinched and turned her gaze away from Simon's reassuring one. The way Ramza looked a tad hurt but understanding didn't help either. "I'm sorry," she said as calmly and quietly as possible. She then turned to her two knights.

"Lavian, Alicia. We're leaving." She strode forward and out of the room, ignoring the brief bewildered looks her vassals made.

"Wh-what for?" Alicia asked, both rushing to her side.

"A group of travelers, led by Delita and Caster. If we hurry, we can catch them before they reach Bethla Garrison."

"Wait!" Ramza called out, despite himself. He almost hesitated as everyone stared at him, but he spoke out the next four words with certainty.

"I want to help!"

The staring and silence lasted longer, with mixed reactions.

"We have no need of a mercenary," Agrias said.

"It's best to forget about the job, boy," Gafgarion added. "We _were_ on a tight schedule to deliver the princess to Igros, and nothing in the contract said about chasing the princess half-way around Ivalice and back."

"I have to know for sure," Ramza stressed. "I have to confront Delita myself."

"Know what, exactly?" Rad asked.

"Delita and I were-_are_ friends. I want to at least understand why he would join the Nanten after-"

"After Ziekden?" the dark knight guessed.

Ramza, looking quite shameful, nodded. Gafgarion held gaze with him for a long time, as Rad watched between the two of them nervously. Finally the dark knight let out a heavy sigh. "You're stubborn as a mule, I'm sure."

He turned to Agrias. "Like it or not, we're helping, since the boy has a bone to pick with Delita and Caster."

"Like I said, the Lionsguard has no need for mercenaries," she glared at the dark knight briefly. "But…" she added as her gaze softened. "I suppose there is strength in numbers, so you may join us."

"May I suggest that you all rest first?" Simon asked. "It is a terrible storm outside, as most of you are aware, and I doubt any one can make it through to Dorter this way; least of all Fiona."

The Lionsguard all snapped their gaze towards the priest. Lavian and Alicia looked simply overjoyed while Agrias was disbelieving. "You mean Fiona's…?"

"Safe and rested," Simon smiled. "Ovelia was able to heal her and put her to bed before, well, the incident."

Seeing Ramza's confusion, Rad whispered "Their fourth knight."

As the Lionsguard retired to their chambers, Shadow Company followed Simon, whom insisted to show them their own guest rooms. He had led Gafgarion and Rad to their rooms first, both close to one another, but Ramza was still led on. The apprentice summoner had a feeling the priest had something to say in private, so he patiently followed.

Eventually the duo was led to a spacious room with a few candle-lit lamps spaced between. There were shelves and tomes to the side, but the majority of the room was empty space… and the faint scent of magic around them.

Ramza stared at Simon. He could tell the priest had something to say, but struggled to find the right words. "Is there something urgent you wish to ask me?"

"Somewhat," the old man admitted. "Everything you said to Lady Agrias; Caster, her master, the stone's magic… was it all true?"

"I heard one of them call her by that moniker," the wizard recalled, feeling he could trust this man. "And she referred Delita as 'Master' during our fight. As for the stone, I've been trained by a magus to be a… summoner of sorts; one of the old ones. Training to sense mana was one of the fundamental skills."

Simon's eyes widened slightly, and gave a spark Ramza was taken aback by. Was it… surprise? Hope? "I see… did you also happen to find a book?"

Ramza nodded and drew out the Germonique Scriptures he found earlier. The priest snatched it, but more controlled and worriedly than Agrias. Seeing it in his hands again, he seemed relieved.

"How important is this book?" Ramza genuinely asked.

Simon hesitated, glancing between the young man and the book. "I can't say… but promise me you'll keep the existence of the book between us. Many would wish to see it burned than see the light of day."

"I won't tell," Ramza agreed. He was still confused to what the man was implying and asking of him, but he had no reason to doubt or distrust him. Simon gave him the benefit of the doubt concerning his first encounter with Agrias, so he deserved as much.

"Thank you," the priest nodded, slightly more relieved as he set the book aside in one of the shelves. "And how much of that conversation with Delita did you hear?"

"Delita said something about protecting Ovelia from the war, correct?"

"That he did," the priest nodded sagely. "If that's the case, we might have another war all together."

"But surely we would not escalate to a civil war so soon! Br-" Ramza stopped himself before continuing. "Er, Duke Larg of the house of Beoulve wouldn't let that happen, not after Lord Balbanes fought so hard in the 50 Year War!"

"Tensions are high, young Ramza," Simon sighed. "Both Larg and Goltana are adamant of being regent, which in the case of the young prince and princess needing viziers, is the closest either of them will get to the crown themselves. But if the servant Caster is involved, then it will be much worse than a civil war between the White and Black Lions."

"What do you mean? What could be worse?"

Simon looked at him sadly, again indecisive what to say. Then with a small sigh, he admitted, "The Holy Grail War."

Ramza's eyes widened, as a light gasp slipped through his lips. Simon noticed his mute shock with concern. "You are familiar with this, then?"

"V-vaguely," he stuttered. "Master Akamun had told me stories about it before, considered as the ultimate match between magi. But… why THAT war? Now of all times?"

"I am not sure, but to be able to summon not a phantasmal spirit or eidolon, but a Heroic Spirit in flesh in blood holds no other explanation," Simon pondered. "I must agree though, this news is disturbing."

Ramza quickly calmed down, and gauged the priest again. "There's a reason you're telling me this." It wasn't a question of an accusation; just a fact.

Simon acknowledged that with a nod. "Tell me Ramza; how far are you in your Magus training?"

The apprentice summoner quickly gave account to his year under Akamun. "I learned and mastered several blue magic spells, including those under the secondary triangle."

Blue magic was a unique art that anyone could master not with diligence and studying, but with luck and vitality. Those that studied the art, blue mages, were the sole link to understanding and comprehending magic used by monsters. The reason being that it requires a unique kinesthetic and visual learning experience: feeling it firsthand.

It was also an often forgotten link to one of the 'lesser' forms of magic. It was unclear to how magic worked beyond the Cataclysm, but as of today, magic was clearly divided under elements, with some notable exceptions. Yin Yang magic was solely for status ailments. White magic was purely light element, focused on healing and protection. Time magic held power over time and space. Summoning magic made bursts of magic in the form of a powerful element whether it was an eidolon's attack, and while it was the most diverse, it was also the most taxing.

Only black magic had the sheer focus of elements raining on their foes, but it was set up closely to learn the elements of the primary triangle. Fire to burn and scorch foes. Bolt to electrocute victims to a crisp. Ice to freeze, then shatter, the hearts of enemies. These three are widely regarded as the most lethal elements of the world. Trainers often prepare wizards in harnessing up to all three elements with ease, with some supplementary curses of Poison, Death, and Frog to branch out. And that wasn't even considering one of the mightiest of spells, Flare.

The secondary triangle, on the other hand, consisted of necessary and vital elements; Aero to control the winds and air, Quake to cause tremors and shape the land, and Water to supply life or drown it. Because they were considered more vital than dangerous, most wizards ignore the secondary triangle all together, preferring to utilize as much destructive force as possible. Only geomancers had focus in elements of both triangles, but even then it was situational depending on their environment and area. The only masters of the secondary triangle nowadays were monsters, and they rarely focus it in bursts like those under the primary triangle.

So to hear someone taking focus in an 'unknown' triad of magic was a surprise to Father Simon. "I see... and summoning arias?"

"I managed to call a Moogle once," Ramza recalled. Fabled creatures that lived in the astral plane with other eidolons, and they were just as kind and playful as any fairy. "It was the only time I ever did summoning, but master said that I accomplished it faster than any evoker. That, and… it stayed longer than usual."

Moogles, like any other eidolon, could only stay physical in the world for a short time. Usually long enough to enact a simple command of their magic in a single burst. However, the one Ramza summoned was tied down for nearly ten minutes, casually playing mischievously between student and master. After it was dismissed, Ramza nearly passed out due to mana exhaustion.

"I wanted to practice a bit more and call the other eidolons, but master claimed I knew enough from under him. Any blue magic I want to learn would have to be on my own accord."

Simon nodded, deep in thought. "Yes… perhaps you could…"

"Father," Ramza said softly. "What are you planning?"

"I suppose there's no other way to quite say this…" Simon frowned. "Ramza, I want you to fight in the Holy Grail War."

The apprentice summoner had a feeling it was coming to this, but he was still disturbed he would seriously consider him. "What? How?"

"The only way any other magus fought in the previous wars." The priest held out the tear-shaped stone in his hand. "Summon a servant."

Ramza stared at Virgo, but made no move to claim it. "With this stone? But it's Princess Ovelia's birthright."

"Servants are called normally though a summoning circle and aria, but exceptional ones are called through a special catalyst. This stone is doing no one any good collecting dust in an old monastery, least of all Ovelia. What's more, it's as special a stone as it looks. Legend tells that one of the Zodiac Braves held this stone with pride. Perhaps one of them will answer your call."

"But I thought the Zodiac Braves were just stories."

Simon smiled. "Technically all Heroic Spirits come from stories of some sort."

Ramza was still hesitant. "Surely Agrias would be better suited for this."

"Agrias is a very capable holy knight," the old priest agreed. "She would fight to protect the princess regardless of the situation. But she can't call a servant. Only a magus could possibly hope to call a heroic spirit. Given your training and awareness of mana signatures, you're the only one here I could ask."

"I'm not even marked," he added, revealing his hand. "I can't hope to summon a servant if I'm not legally qualified."

"It might have true in the past, but frankly we don't have time to follow tradition and wait. If we're fortunate, just the summoning alone would earn your command spells."

Ramza glanced between the priest and the stone in his hand. Several moments passed in tense silence.

"Please," Simon said. "I fear for Ovelia's safety, and I would feel better knowing she had a servant fighting for her sake."

"You trust is misplaced, Father," the Lugria answered. "I am merely hired to protect and escort her to Igros."

"I saw your eyes when you handed to me the princess. They were fierce and determined for her safety. Your will is strong, and I know your servant, should you call one, would greatly reflect that."

"You trust me so willingly with this information? This opportunity?"

"We wouldn't be having this conversation right now if I had doubts," the priest said.

Another pause, the two stared at one another. Simon noticed how slightly Ramza's brown eyes twitched, and he could have sworn he saw them flash slightly. A moment later, he claimed the stone from the priest's hand, and stared at it.

"Tell me what I have to do."

* * *

The preparation was quick and concise; Simon merely needed to retrace the itched runes on the floor, which he admitted was used ages ago as a portal or gate. The design was intricate; a hexagon within a two-ringed red circle, with plenty of smaller circles and rune word within.

During which, Ramza looked through seven cards representing the classes of servants. The first he looked over was Delita's servant, Caster. They were best known for their adept control and mastery of magecraft and sorcery. Their main weakness was their unfortunately weak combat ability. Their base magic was guaranteed to be high, but most other servants have an innate magic resistance to begin with, as well as other magi. It was no doubt why they were considered weak, but more than made up for their weakness with their utility and spells, including their innate Territory Creation and Item Construction skills.

He had no doubt Delita's Caster was clever enough to go par against any threat. The choice of servant probably suited him as well. Delita was always more level headed and clever than himself, so he would no doubt resort to stealth and strategy if possible, instead of a frontal assault.

Along with stealth, coincidentally, is the Assassin class. Servants of this class were also weak in combat strength, due to low mention of heroes acting covertly or silently. Their primary target, however, wouldn't be killing other servants, but other masters instead. Given their ability to remain hidden and undetected, they would do their best to win any situation indirectly through an unsuspecting master. It was disrespectful and underhanded, and Ramza quickly decided against choosing Assassin.

Berserker was a class reserved for a heroic spirit that, at one point of their lifetime, had gone mad. This enables them to the Mad Enhancement skill, which increased their strength and parameters at the cost of their sanity. It was because of this that the Berserker class had the potential of being the strongest out of the seven servants, even if the servant summoned was originally under par to the other six. But there was also the liability of keeping constant mana in check for Mad Enhancement to be active…

The class of the Mounted Knight, Rider, was also a possibility. They were intermediate in terms of power, but more than made up for it with the use of their legendary mounts and innate Riding skill. Be it a machine post-Cataclysm, a simple chocobo, or even mystical beasts long forgotten, they were easily one of the more versatile servants.

The last three were collectively called the Knight classes, each specializing with a different weapon; the spear, the bow, and the sword. Lancers, utilizing their spear or lance, were very proficient in speed and range, favoring hit-and-run tactics. Their strict qualifications are second only to the Saber class, and require just as high base perimeters to be summoned. Other than a class ability of Magic Resistance shared by the other two knights, there was nothing else of worth mention.

Archers, despite their name, fought with not just bows and arrows but any kind of projectile. The power of said projectiles can be their true strength. They also come with the unique ability of Independent Action, to act outside of their master's orders without mana. It can work well to their advantage as scouts. However, Archers could be harder to control than even Berserkers, if they were _too_ independent.

Then there was Saber, the knight of the sword class. It was little wonder to Ramza that Saber was considered the most desired and powerful of the servants. While other servants specialized solely on one aspect, such as Caster's magic or Berserker's raw power, Saber was a true wild card. They had the strongest innate Magic Resistance to fight off Caster, and shared the same skill as Rider that gave them the namesake. They could be as fast as a Lancer and as strong as a Berserker, all with a level head. Being from the legend of knights, they were likely easier to control than Archers, and be chivalrous enough to protect from Assassins. Saber had a little bit of everything, and could combat against the worst of the other servants.

Simon, having finished his circle drawing, walked over to Ramza and noticed him staring at the Saber card. "A wise choice," he smiled. "A Saber servant is one of the harder ones to call, but very worthwhile. With my assistance it should be possible."

"And if someone else has already summoned Saber?" Ramza asked.

"Then the next available class will respond. Regardless, this is all the more reason we should commence the summoning ritual now, to claim Saber before the other masters. Follow me."

Simon guided the blond to the edge of the now red glowing glyph, instructing him in the aria he was to recite. Ramza listened and absorbed the words, going over them several times with the priest correcting him every other verse.

The apprentice summoner, soon about to take the test of a real summoner, stood before the glyph for several seconds, staring at the stone at center. With a sigh to relieve his nerves, he started to speak the words of the summoning aria. His mind was focused and could recall every word.

_"I command thee…_"

His heart, however, was wavering.

_"Thou shalt come forth to my side,_

_"Thy sword shalt control my fate._"

_To take command again… and over a champion that was most likely a leader himself… _He thought during the incantation. _I feel no pride over this… no Beoulve pride. But then, I'm a Lugria now._

_"Abiding by the Holy Grail's haven,_

_"It thou accedes to this will and reason, then answer me,_

_"The oath set forth here."_

He knew full well of the severity of the situation, as well as the risks. The seven servants would clash to the death, until only one remained standing. It was not without bloodshed, and bystanders would often get involved in the crossfire. Back then, magic was meant to be kept secret, so those incidents were simply covered as explosions or other mundane disasters.

_Then what good will I do following their example? Protect the princess? Delita may be openly opposing Larg, but I am no better, for simply leaving and becoming a mercenary._

_"I am the embodiment of good in the eternal world."_

_If good is meant to watch others die, powerless to do anything else otherwise._

_"I am the disposer of evil in the eternal world."_

_If evil takes the form of the poor and weak, and forced to follow the status quo._

_"Thee, the seven heavens that bear the great trinity,_

_"Come forth from the circle of constraint."_

_And into a new circle… one filled with corruption and betrayal._

His steadfast actions betraying his inner turmoil, Ramza slid his palm slightly with one of his daggers. He held his hand over the circle and allowed a drop of blood to land before it. The sound was akin to a single raindrop in water, and the red light glowed brighter, almost in contrast to Virgo's blue hue.

A reflection of the glyph hovered over, recognizing the words and power of the magi. Simon watched anxious and amazed at the spectacle before him, as Ramza ended the aria with an adlib of his own.

_"Come to my aid, oh valiant champion! Saber!"_

With that, Virgo crackled with static, as well as a visual flash akin to several bubbles drawn into it before a big one resonated out. A brilliant flash followed after, blinded the room and forcing both men to shield their eyes. It eventually receded, and they hesitantly opened their eyes to see the servant before them…

Yet all traces of the glyph disappeared. All that remained was Virgo, duller in color than when Ramza first found it.

"Did I… fail?" Ramza asked. "Or does Saber have a master already?"

Simon frowned, walking towards the stone tentatively. "The ritual was in sync with your words, Ramza, but not your heart."

Ramza said nothing as Simon picked the stone up, aware he would explain anyway. He still felt rather disturbed by this revelation.

"It has been said that when masters call for their servants, and usually without a catalyst, they are paired by Heroic Spirits that are most compatible towards their own shared beliefs or similar feelings. However, a master must also be willing to partake in what is about to happen; the risk of their life, of death, all for the pursuit of a magical artifact that can grant a single wish. Do you not have any cause towards that, Ramza?"

The boy's shamed silence was answer enough, and the priest sighed.

"I won't force you to find a path on your own, child, but know this; the ritual is incomplete and this stone is very much ready to call a servant. It will adapt to the will of anyone that claims it, even for the most selfish of desires. It is dangerous to leave it in the wrong hands so you must take it with you, with one goal of these two in mind."

"Unless you can answer to yourself why you fight," Simon began, handing the stone to a reluctant Ramza. "Then at least find someone who already knows."

* * *

"I can't believe we're in the slums, of all places!" Caster scolded, glaring in particular towards Delita as she leaned against the wall of their 'motel'. "_This_ is your great plan of hiding out? Surely it'll draw attention that a holy knight ventured this far to seek shelter?"

"Better than to have the people in town to realize exactly _who_ is with us. And since so few people come down here, it is worth not taking risks." Delita eyed the princess, still asleep on the bed in the next room. He and the other three members of his troop sat together around a table, discussing their situation.

"You already convinced the townspeople by the gate our that entourage is the one meant to guide Ovelia to Igros," Monica reasoned. "Why do we have to come back here?

"Just because the villagers bought our ruse doesn't mean they will for long if something's up," the holy knight answered. "The princess' pilgrimage to Igros is a well spread rumor and they'll figure something is amiss if we go the opposite direction. "We're merely hiding from public to make them think _their_ plan is going well, and Caster knows it."

"That doesn't mean I will put up with this Root-forsaken travesty!" the servant snapped, before blinking in realization. "Wait… back? How do you four know of this place already?"

"Old job," Claire answered. "We were looking for the Marquis Elmdore, kidnapped by the Death Corps. Sources led us to here, which led us to the Rat's Cellar near Zekilus Desert."

"How I loved zapping those penniless mercs to ash," Luke grinned. "Sure, they had us on the ropes with their archers up top and wizards blasting back at us, but in the end, _my_ magic holds no equal."

"It is because of that bigotry that led rise to the Death Corps in the first place!" Monica scowled from across her seat. "Our job wasn't to kill them! You sound like you _enjoyed_ hunting them like dogs!"

"What of it?" The geomancer scoffed. "Not everyone can be remembered as heroes like Balbanes, Elmdor or T.G. Cid. You give them an inch, and they'll take a mile. Lord Dycedarg had the right idea ignoring their demands if all they were going to do was go out on a riot."

"Enough," the holy knight scolded. "What's done is done, and we've all made our grievances with the past already. We have to keep fighting or else all our battles would be for naught. We still have to fight for Teta…" Delita's expression softened slightly at the mention of her name. "A world she would have loved to live in."

"Yes," Claire nodded. "For Teta…"

Caster watched soberly at the others, Delita especially. She wasn't told much about Teta, but she didn't need a whole life story to know who exactly she was; a little sister that her master held dear, and her premature death has made him the now bitter man before her. It reminded her too much of a friend of her own, and she'd be damned if the master went as far as that idiot did.

There was also the problem with Luke. He too vaguely reminded her of someone… someone she at times hated for being so sexist and elitist. It wouldn't do if his ego grew too much, so she decided to pop it a bit.

"You sound pretty sure of yourself back there, Luke," Caster said after a moment of silence. "Of course, that Ramza fellow was a lot more versatile than you, keeping us off guard with spells from the secondary triangle."

Luke's expression drastically changed from indifference to rage, and back to indifference again. "That coward of a Beoulve was just lucky, that's all. I'll have more control over the elements than he will once I finish geomancy. In straight up black magic, I'm the best there is."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that," Caster admitted. "His magic is rather unique and he may very well be competent enough to be a summoner."

"But I didn't see him bring out any eidolons," Claire said.

"Not that kind; the original one. A master. In other words, a magus."

Such a casual statement from the black-haired servant caught everyone in the room off guard. Luke recovered first, blatantly in denial. "Him? A magus? Hell no. If it was any other Beoulve I would understand, but not Ramza. Even if he was still Dycedarg's dog he'd never be trained as a magus."

"Careful what you say, Luke," Delita smiled. "By all accounts, I shouldn't be a Magus either, but here you all arguing with my servant."

"You're an exception, Delita," the geomancer shrugged. "You got all sorts of connections and loopholes to get the needed training. Theoretically, you just managed because you got help all over the place."

"Back to the topic at hand," Caster continued. "A magus is a person able to use magecraft, or thaumaturgy, through the use of their magic circuits. There's nothing special or unique about it, since everyone and their mother in this time has a slight affinity to the overflowing mana in this world."

"Well, couldn't everyone back in your time cast magic too?" Monica asked. "Magic was possible at least 12,000 years ago at the time of Saint Ajora."

Caster snorted. "Magic did exist back then, yes, but not as abundant as when some prophet channeled Jesus Christ." She ignored the blank stares and blinks to her reference and continued her lecture. "Back in my time, magic existed only in secret, yet was studiously pursued and taught to learn even greater spells for the sake of knowledge."

She heaved a slight sigh. "It's almost a pity how mundane magic has become now; ironically the common knowledge and acceptance of magic was sort of a secret wish researchers of thaumaturgy wanted to share. But in this time it's practically hindered."

"What do you mean?" Luke demanded. "Are you mocking my magic prowess? I told you, I have _no_ _equal!_"

The servant rolled her eyes. "Of course you would _think_ that, never living in a time where magic was scarce and there were less people that knew the same tricks. Every wizard in this world knows how to make a fireball, or summon lightning, or cause blizzards. Not to mention every one of your spells and tricks comes from the Root itself, (the source of the world's mana by the way), where it is divided further from its original potential as each new wizard is taught how to cast it. You may mix a stronger bit of your own energy in your spells, but the end result is still a fraction of its real potential."

"My magic is _shared?_ And you expect me to believe that? No one ever told us that at the Gariland Military Academy!"

"I can only assume that is because all the masters of magic that taught you are unaware of how it really works. Or more likely, the history of the Root has been long lost after the Cataclysm…" Caster shrugged, and then offered a sweet smile to Luke. "Of course, if you're willing to prove me otherwise that what I'm saying is just lies…"

No one in the room was fooled; Caster was barely containing her violent streak with a cute smile and sweet words. It seemed reverse psychology worked with her actions; if she was acting nice suddenly, it clearly meant she was going to make someone pay. The thought of that was scarier than her natural aggression.

"N-no thanks!" Luke said quickly. "I-I know better than to question a heroic mage spirit such as yourself! I wouldn't even _dream_ going against some of the magic that made_you_famous!"

"That's what I thought," Caster said, smiling just a tad wider.

Luke sunk back to his seat, trying his best to hide from the shame; as well as Delita's slight smirk and Monica and Claire's giggling.

"And on that note," Caster resumed her lecture. "I see no reason why Ramza can't be a master. It requires a lot of training to be a competent Magus, yes, but anyone in Ivalice _can _be one, regardless of vocation. The grail isn't picky this time, and it's not a requirement. In fact, one of the masters from a previous Holy Grail War happened to be the most suicidal, ignorant, and clueless Magus I've ever met, but he managed to summon a powerful servant just fine out of sheer luck."

"So anyone can be a master?" the white mage blinked. "But I thought it was a noble prestigious class like the holy knights."

"Just because _any_one can gain power," Delita frowned. "Doesn't mean they'll allow it to _every_one."

"Selective information, I'm sure," Caster nodded. "Less trouble for the nobles. Though Ramza's case concerns me."

"You mean how he uses the secondary triangle spells?" Monica offered. "And according to your theory, they're most likely more powerful since no one else knows how to cast them?"

"Partly," the red-robed servant admitted. "But more importantly, he knew the Gandr curse."

"The spell you taught me?" Delita blinked. "I was wondering how he could do that as well."

"It was a simple _curse_ originating from an old world country called Scandinavia," Caster elaborated, emphasizing on the fifth word. "But it doesn't fall quite clearly with your element based world magic, or even the oracle's status magic. In my time, it was easy to learn and use, but it is pretty much an extinct curse now. All my spells fall under that category, really. I taught you the Gandr curse because you wanted me to teach you more about thaumaturgy. You even used a command spell for it; I had no choice in the matter."

A quick glance at Delita's palm saw a decorative pattern of wands and rubies etched in red markings. His three, now two, command spells were his proof of being Caster's master, and as such had the authority to use an absolute command each time, even if they wouldn't otherwise. Caster was very infuriated to have been subjected to his order, muttering along the lines of "So this is what it was like on him." But shortly after, she relented and became very supportive.

"So let's go over the facts, shall we?" Caster held out a hand dismissively, extending a finger for each point. "I was the only one, at the moment of your summoning, who knew Gandr. You commanded me to teach my magic to you alone on a weekly basis. The monastery was the first time you reunited with Ramza and the first I've ever met him. And in that short amount of time, he somehow managed to use a curse only two of us in all of Ivalice knew. What do you make of that?"

Delita had to admit Caster had a point. He knew Ramza well (prior to Ziekden and Teta, anyway), but was quite surprised of his quick turnabout in the ways of magic. Then again, he himself got pretty far in only a year, thanks to his 'benefactors'. The holy knight also knew that Ramza always was a determined fighter: so devoted to his studies and considered a prodigy on the battlefield-

Then it hit him. "He learned it on the fly."

Caster and the others blinked. "What?"

"I used the Gandr _curse_ on him first." He enunciated the word 'curse' for his servant. "He must have gotten a close look at it because he took the hit head on. Shortly after you arrived was around the time he fought me to sword point. I tried using it again but he managed to disperse it with his knives. And when closed in, he used it on me. He didn't _know_ it beforehand; he _learned_ it from our battle.

"Didn't you use Gandr on him too, Caster?" Claire asked.

"Twice, in fact," Luke nodded. "The first shot hit him in the back."

"On the fly…" Caster murmured to herself. "Just by… seeing it? It's almost like-"

"Caster?" the chemist asked, unknowingly breaking her train of thought. "Are you alright?"

"O-of course I am!" Caster huffed. "I'm fine… just fine…"

Monica still looked worried for the servant, but decided not to push the issue. "Al...alright then."

Delita, looking over room once more, noticed how close to dark it was outside. "I think it's time for all of us to turn in. Remember, we leave at dawn."

"Yes, sir," Luke and the girls replied, and they each retired to their rooms. Caster stayed behind, watching Delita stared across the hall.

"Your friend sounds like an interesting fellow," the servant spoke. "But he might also become a problem later if he turns out to be a competent Magus. Our luck would take a turn for the worse if he summons a servant, especially Saber." She slightly shivered at the possibly, and felt a sick sense of irony over the situation. For once she didn't _want_ to meet a Saber servant.

"I'll cross that bridge when I get to it," Delita said. "If anything, we might convince him towards the same goal for the grail. He was never one for praise; just wanted to know he could be counted on."

Caster nodded. "Though he knows my existence; the Holy Grail War is supposed to be secret, and any one that learns about it or the Servants must be killed accordingly."

The holy knight chuckled as he looked to Caster. Her blue eyes blinked in confusion at his gentle smile. "Then allow me to thank you on Monica's behalf as well as my own, for breaking protocol."

Realizing the intent of the jest, the servant blushed. "C-call it a freebie! I knew how well you two got along as friends and I didn't see it in my place to end that after an ill-timed reunion! And just for the record, if we do run into him again, certified master or not, I _will_ kill him!"

"Fair enough," Delita shrugged, knowing full well Caster cared more about others than she let on. With the conversation ended, silence persisted and the master's smile slowly faded. His servant followed his gaze towards the sleeping princess, already aware of what he was thinking.

"You're taking a big risk, you know," she said. "Kidnapping her like this."

"If I had done nothing, she would have died," Delita reasoned. "She would have been no different from Teta; an unsuspecting girl caught in events beyond her control and killed because it would be easier for those in charge."

"A princess isn't the same as a peasant girl, sibling or not," Caster warned. "Everyone would want you dead for interfering with their goals."

"Good, let them whine then," he smirked. "It will be the calm before the storm when they lose everything."

"Quite eager in planning a coup, are we?"

"If there's anything to know about politics, it's that there will always be manipulation. If there is any hope to change the system, it is to play the same game by their own twisted rules."

"You think you, a peasant, can make a difference?"

Delita shrugged. "It wouldn't hurt to try. After all, I may be a _peasant_, but I still managed to summon you, the greatest Caster who ever lived."

"Can't argue with that," the red-robed servant smiled, this time without malice. Turning to Ovelia again, she frowned. "Still… something's not right about her."

Delita's brows twitched upward. "What do you mean?"

"Call it déjà vu, but I feel like I've seen her before. Not only that, but the whole 'lost princess' thing sounds too fishy and cliché to work in this day and age."

"I did wonder that myself quite a bit," Delita admitted. "Her lineage I mean."

"Of course," said Caster. "But do you think she might even _be _a real princess?"

Delita frowned in thought as he walked closer to Ovelia. Her face, her slow breathing, her braided hair, the red cape and white dress she wore, made from the highest quality silk, the serenity of her peaceful slumber (ironic, despite the force and trouble he went to steal her). It was hard to imagine her as a princess as all, looking and sleeping like a normal person… yet her beauty could very well be only of nobility.

"I do not think it matters at this point," Delita answered.

"How can you be sure?" Caster asked, walking up beside him.

"If Goltana is half the man Larg or Dycedarg is, then he would be sure to play any information to his benefit. Or in this case, ignore what would hurt his reputation. He probably knew beforehand Ovelia wasn't a princess, but declared her royalty anyway for his own gain."

"So, she's just a ruse."

"More like a puppet," Delita clenched his fist. "All the more reason I need to protect her from those that would use her."

"Even if that means using_ her_ yourself?" Caster pointedly asked.

The holy knight flinched slightly, suddenly aghast of the thought. He stared once again at the Ovelia's face. He then slowly turned to Caster, his face obviously torn, before saying "If it means I can ensure her a happy life… I will stomach any hate she'll hold of me."

Caster didn't like that face at all. It was the face of a defeated man realizing he would see his own ideals turned against him. Of a man who would suffer his own cruel fate. Of a man aware of his fate, one he truly did not wish to bring upon himself, but he had to for the sake of others. "Master…"

The tense moment fluttered away as their sleeping prisoner moaned slightly. A moment later, she woke up, startled at the two people standing before her.

"Wh-who are you? Where am I?" Ovelia Atkascha stared at them hesitantly. Caster could tell she was scared, and honestly she felt a bit worried herself.

From a distance, it wasn't obvious, and even when up close you would have to look closely to see something. But Caster, who had been greatly bothered by Ovelia since the kidnapping, was critically gauging her appearance.

Ovelia's hair was faintly light brown instead of dark. Her features were complimented with alabaster skin, instead of being pale. Her eyes, which the nobles _insisted_ being dark brown, were just a shade below crimson red.

Delita, unaware of Caster's bewilderment, merely smiled to the awakened woman. "You are safe, Princess Ovelia. You could say… I'm your knight in shining armor."

If she were paying attention to that line, Caster would have blasted her master for it.

* * *

The next morning, somewhere in a quiet street in Dorter, a deal with the devil was being made. However, no one could tell who the devil was amongst a gathering of thugs and a church knight; not in the open anyway.

"Your reward will be five hundred gil a head," the purple garbed knight said, having finished explaining his job offer and getting straight to the reward.

Amongst a gang of wizards, archers and thieves, all but one was willing to accept the offer so freely given. It sounded like a good deal, but it was too good to be true. It was something that their leader knew and wanted to haggle for it.

"If five hundred is all you're offering," the head thief grunted. "Then you don't want quality work for a hit job."

The knight looked amused… too amused. "And what offer, pray tell, would be enough for 'quality'?"

The thief did his best not to be intimidated. "Two thousand."

The knight's demeanor hardly changed. "You wish for me to pay you two thousand gil for each head... for less than a dozen marks you are to go after today. I would sooner use that budget to file you all for heresy."

To be named a heretic was a fate worse than death in Ivalice; it was essentially the church's version of the most wanted list. Anyone and everyone would want you dead, especially the church, and no one would otherwise expect you to be a 'victim' for simply saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. Even if you would live the murder attempts, you could never live the shame of having your name marked as a 'heretic'.

No one in the alley knew why a templar knight was meeting them, let alone bribing them for a hit job, but it was clear he had connections and wasn't afraid to use them. He saw a group of mercenaries and valkyries a threat to Glabados, and wanted them gone without the church actually doing anything. That was all an explanation he was willing to offer, and that was all the thieves cared about.

Besides, his very _aura_ was making them all feel nervous, even the stubborn leader. The sooner the deal was done, the better.

"Coercion is hardly fitting for a templar knight," the head thief bluffed. "But I can respect that. For you, one thousand a head."

The church knight shook his head. "Seven hundred. That's my last offer."

The band of thieves looked amongst one another. Seven hundred gil was barely a step up from five hundred, but it was still exponentially more. Not much was given on the man's description of their targets other than four had traditional knight training and three were miscellaneous mercenaries in a troop together. That marked seven in total; if all went well, they could have 4,900 gil as opposed to the original 3,500.

Still, there was a nagging doubt in the leader's mind, telling him to ignore the deal. Not so much of the money itself, but rather a subtle danger of dying. He also couldn't figure out why the church would ask for such a job in the first place… He quickly pushed it aside though. The life he and his team live now wasn't an honest profession, but they got far in it for taking risks, no questions asked. A sudden conscience of self-preservation or last second epiphany wasn't going to stop him and his team, even with-no, _especially _with a deal from one of the church's templars.

"Alright, done deal," he said, exchanging handshakes with the templar.

"They should be arriving in town as we speak," said the purple knight. "I will be clear on this; this job is all or nothing. Kill every last one of them."

"Boss!" an archer called from one of the rooftops, drawing all attention to her. "Seven wanderers are heading into Dorter from the south!"

The templer smirked. "Ah, speak of the devil." He turned back to the leader. "I'll leave you to it then. Don't disappoint me."

With that, the templar hurried off and left the brigands to their job. All of them let out a sigh of relief they didn't know they were holding as the man's clenching aura was gone.

"This job better be worth the forty-nine hundred," a wizard groaned. "I'm starting to get too old for this."

"Alright everyone, you know the drill," the leader smirked. "Get into positions and we'll begin operation: divide and conquer."

* * *

A/N: My WORD! This chapter became much longer than I expected it to be. I just had so much to fit in, but decided to put in at least two thirds of it up for now. The aftermath of the Orbonne battle, the failed summoning, the respite with Delita's group, and a familiar scene from Dorter battle 2 slightly expanded. The last third will be the third chapter/campaign, consisting of the Dorter battle and the grand entrance of the exclusive Fate: FINAL's version of Saber.

Also, a few notes. Sorry to all who feel I gave a bad light to Agrias Oaks. But put this into perspective: the princess is kidnapped without her knowing WHO did it, the only lead she has is a man found at the backdoor with the princess' birthright stone, said man proves somehow to be related when mentioning his name, and he was, for some reason, absent during the battle outside. The fact that he's under Gafgarion's unit doesn't quite fly with her (in fact it may justify her actions, given how they act like oil and water). She has little reason to trust Gafgarion or Ramza, who are mercenaries, and she only grows to trust the latter after the battles they face throughout the second part of the game.

The Nasuverse of magic is... quite complex, to say the least. I just hope I managed to incorporate Ivalice's universal magic world into Nasu's style somewhat believably. I might get more into it, but for now I just had Caster explain a small portion, like how different everything is with everyone having untapped magic circuits (before training towards magic based classes anyway).

See you all next chapter.


	4. Third Campaign

Disclaimer: Final Fantasy Tactics is copyrighted to Square Enix. Fate/Stay Night is copyrighted to Type Moon. Anything done here is for fun and creative liberties to mix the two fandoms together without worry of lawsuit. Also, the picture (minus the title added on via Paint) used for the cover is drawn by 00lin00 of the deviantart website, asked with permission to be used here.

Fate: FINAL

Third Campaign

There was a reason Dorter Trade City got its name, and it was for the sheer number of merchants drawn to it. Positioned nearly at the half-way point of all other regions, it was hard pressed not to find something worth buying. Dorter served as a good start for the Lionsguard and Shadow Company; they would spend half the day restocking on supplies, and then regroup and set off for Araguay Woods before nightfall.

"Are you sure you can walk alright, Fiona?" Agrias asked, evidently in concern for her third teammate.

Fiona, a knight no different from Alicia or Lavian save for her shorter hair, just smiled. There was a slight limp in her step but she took in stride quite easily enough. "I'm fine milady. I waited long enough in bed, and the princess isn't getting any closer if we keep licking our wounds."

"Yes, you're right," Agrias nodded. "Just don't be afraid to inform me of any sort of discomfort."

"Worry not, milady. This is nothing compared to my squire days."

"You always were the more physically engaged one, Fiona," Alicia chided from her left. "Probably too much exercise, if you could fall easily to a yin yang hex."

"There were hardly any oracles amongst the Nanten, Alicia," Lavian reasoned via right. "You shouldn't talk down on her, since you had the most trouble that fight. Why, if it weren't for the Shadow Company-"

"Don't encourage her, Lavian. If anything you're worse than her, thinking your muscles will solve everything."

Her sister huffed. "It helps to get a stronger sword swing and have enough vitality to survive a magic attack. Granted, you're too busy reading books to last as long as Fiona and I."

"We're all training under Lady Agrias to be holy knights, are we not?" Alicia countered. "It requires not just a devout faith to the church, but an understanding of both sword techniques and holy magic. Since you two are focused solely on the sword aspect, I am focusing towards the magic aspect first; mostly for your sake as well as my training."

"More like you need your _older _sister to play bodyguard while you practice with spells," Lavian smirked.

Sensing a rising tension between the two, Fiona tried to intervene. "Actually, I've been practicing with Protect and Shell spells, as well as Esuna-"

"Splendid!" Alicia beamed, clasping her hands onto Fiona's own. "You're off to a great start then; sorry I ever doubted you, Fiona! But you must continue your studies and learn Raise and at least Cure-"

"-_After_ you finish the physical routine!" Lavian cut in, tugging her right arm. "It wouldn't look good if you stopped now just when you were learning to break your opponent's strength!"

Fiona looked between the two of them, slightly exasperated. "Can't I just balance both-?"

"No!" both sisters snapped.

"Finish one," Alicia explained.

"Then the other!" Lavian added.

Agrias, having listened to the whole argument, reached her limits as the townspeople watched them. No doubt they would gossip about three knights bickering about the best route in becoming her equal. So, she turned back to them and barked down their squabbling on the spot. "Will you three stop behaving like children?! This is _not_ becoming of the name of the Lionsguard, let alone the Church of Glabados!"

"Yes, milady," the three knights said, bowing their heads in response.

"Good," the orange haired woman nodded, and resumed walking. "Now, let's see about getting some su-OOF!"

Having not watched where she was going, Agrias bumped into an unsuspecting rushing man. Regardless of the circumstance, she was quick to be chivalrous and polite. "Please excuse me sir, I did not mean to-AHH?!"

The holy knight had attempted to step back from the man, but she quickly found herself firmly in place when a hand actually went up behind her blue coattails and latched on a very_personal_ spot under her leather pants. For several seconds she could do nothing but gasp in shock, blush, and stand stiff as the man continued to rub her rear. But then the realization kicked in and she forcefully pushed the man aside for the sake of her dignity.

"You shameless pervert!" Agrias snarled; her face red through humiliation and rage. "How dare you sexually assault a knight of the royal family!"

The man with the green turban said nothing and dashed ahead of her, latching onto Alicia and Fiona at once. Both girls, still shocked of seeing their leader subdued in such a manner, didn't even register the man groping them until the deed was being done.

"Let go!" Lavian yelled, pulling back a punch to hit the man's face. At the last moment, he ducked, retreated, and trailed his hands around her sides… finishing with a pert spank at her bottom.

"Why you-!" Agrias charged ahead, ready to draw her sword and cleave the man in two for such perverted actions. Alicia, Lavian, and Fiona followed suit, noting how the green-clad was just beyond their reach…

But it was merely his intention. No sooner did the Lionsguard run several paces from their spot did their armor, capes, and sword sheathes slip off from their bodies, leaving them clad in only their tunics and leather guards. As they stood and stare in shock, the green man whistled cheerfully as he pocketed each piece of equipment in a bag. When the last item was put away, the man smirked, no doubt proving his profession as one of the most dishonest yet profitable of all of Ivalice.

"You four certainly look appealing for knights, my fair ladies," the thief jested. "Though I must say, you _might_ be able to catch me… if there wasn't so much weight bearing on your legs. Not that it's a bad thing, mind you! I mean, it certainly more than makes up for your flat chests."

At that point, Agrias only saw red. Her fellow knights saw her hand slap the thief so many times on a single instant that they could have sworn that Agrias had learned the Monk's Repeating Fist technique.

* * *

Meanwhile, Shadow Company was resting down at the bottom of the hill close to the path the Lionsguard had taken. Between Rad's inexperience, Gafgarion's old age, and Ramza being out of practice, the mercenaries struggled not to lose sight of them before the city. They were now taking this opportunity to recuperate

"I never thought knights could move so fast!" Rad panted, being just a few steps behind his lord.

"They don't," Gafgarion scowled. "Though considering the circumstances, these particular knights _are_ very desperate."

"Funny that she acts concerned for her friend yet keeps pushing ahead," Rad noted.

"Oaks is a kind of woman I hate; feigns goodwill and comradeship to those she deems worthy as friends or the high nobility for appearance. Anyone else she reveals her true self; which so happens to be a vile harpy, and even then she considers it an _honour _to grace anyone with her appeal." Gafgarion chuckled at his own jest, with Rad joining in. Ramza was silent, and didn't appear to be aware of the conversation.

"Sounds the exact opposite of you, my lord," the squire smiled.

"No joke," the dark knight smirked. "Why bother to act chivalrous when it is merely a fallacy in the end, and a means to achieve rank? To be a holy knight is to preach of the ways of light and act as a shining example to kiss up to nobility. A dark knight is much more honest; you resort to obtaining power through your own means and no false promises. As long as it even ails your health one day, it is worth it, and it is no one else's but your own."

"Wow, that's really something," Rad said. "Say, Ramza," he turned to his comrade. "Do you think we'll be dark knights someday?"

Ramza blinked out of his thoughts as Rad shook his shoulder. "Huh? What?"

"Well, I don't know about Ramza here," Gaff smirked. "But if anyone can learn to be a dark knight, it's you, Rad. You're making good progress so far, and have already reaped the spoils of your crystallized foes."

While Rad beamed at the praise, the wording really unsettled Ramza. While he didn't ignore the policy of using the enemy's strength against them, he didn't like the idea of ending their lives prematurely for power. He probably wouldn't be a dark knight himself ever, if one of the qualifications was to crystallize others. In a way, it was a harder prerequisite to swallow than declaring royalty to the church as a holy knight. And then there were his earlier worries of Delita and the failed summoning last night…

Gafgarion noticed Ramza's silence, and was disappointed. The boy was a hell of a wizard, and he could tell he spent his earlier years as a knight. Knowing his full story, he wondered if it was his 'family' pride of preserving life, or that nagging failure that was holding him down. Even if he didn't ever want to become a dark knight, the behavior he was recently expressing was bothering him, like he had actually let Agrias Oaks remind him of his last unpleasant battles.

It would not do the morale of Shadow Company any good if his men fell out of line. Luckily it seemed the Lionsguard wasn't going anywhere, since they were conversing with a man getting dangerously close to their assets… brave fool if there ever was one.

"And another aspect of your training starts now," he 'instructed' Rad, who was already hanging on his every word after his confidence boost.

"Anything, sir!" he all but cheered.

"Now take this," he handed a bag of gil in his hand. "Go to the item shop, and pick up some potions." When Rad didn't move and stared oddly at the bag, Gaffgarion added "That's an order."

"Y-yes sir!" he hurried off without another look.

"And be sure to fetch plenty of phoenix down feathers!" Gaff shouted. "We're fresh out!"

And it would be bad for everyone if they couldn't recuperate in a vital battle. Fortunately Rad got the memo as he expressed a thumbs-up during his dash. Good; two birds with one stone.

"Now then…" the dark knight sighed, turning to the remaining mercenary. "What's eating you, boy?"

"I don't know what you mean, my lord," Ramza answered quickly.

"Balderdash," he snapped. "You've been like this ever since we left the monastery." Gaff took a quick look around to see if anyone was hearing (satisfied that everyone in the street was just out of earshot) before continuing. "Are you still upset about Fort Ziekden?"

Ramza's dark eyes hardened slightly. The dark knight was the only one aware of his true connections; it was part of the reason he sought him out for his faction. As such, he knew of his important battles against the Death Corps, including their last known confrontation in Ziekden. Rather, it was when Ramza's Hokuten squad went rogue attacking Zalbag's unit, led by Algus Sadalfas of Limberry.

"If anything you should be relieved to see your friend survived." Gaff pressed. "Although I should tell you this now; by contract he's our enemy for kidnapping the princess. There's no need to continue this job if we'll end up fighting and killing your friend."

"Everyone else is still gone," Ramza muttered, recalling Teta and his fallen comrades.

The dark knight's eyes hardened. "Oh yes, your finest hour; what would you have me do? Reset your life to before Ziekden so you could have stopped whoever shot the hostage? Or perhaps give you better instructions and the foreknowledge to make an otherwise death-trap into a cakewalk of an encounter. At least that way the casualties aren't from your own troops."

Ramza's glared back, offended at Gafgarion's sarcasm. "Don't mock their lives like they were bounties. None of them deserved to die. Not the Death Corps, nor the Hokuten, and certainly not Teta!"

"People _die_ in war," Gaff snapped. "That's a universal truth of the world. Doesn't matter if you're a soldier, a pedestrian, or a hostage; everything is fair game. The Death Corps knew that, and regardless fought against the nobles for spoils. They were merely lucky enough in the war to not die while everyone else did, including their own men. Of course, it was all for naught when they came up against better suited knights."

"That doesn't make it right!" the apprentice summoner cried. "People shouldn't die unconditionally just for what is most convenient for others!"

"The world's view of 'right' has always been the same for years, even before you were conceived in your home of aristocracy. As long as the thirst of power persists, there will always be conflicts and death. To do things the 'right' way means to lose power, or even share it. You might be willing to part with power, but any sensible man wanting a noteworthy position would sooner cut their own arm off before accepting a compromise. Why do you think Larg and Goltana fight so hard to earn their place near the crown?"

"But-!"

"As such, you're still a child; a child who does not see the world for what it is. A man does not turn his back on truth. A man accepts it, and walks the path he must. As for what defines truth…" Gafgarion shrugged. "Well, no one has absolute domain over it."

"…is there a point in telling me all this?" Ramza bitterly asked.

"You have to bury the hatchet about what happened," the dark knight answered. "Delita and your other comrades have moved on, yet here you are, still upset. At least consider this; the men and women you've slain or have seen die have died for a cause… with notable exception of that one girl."

Ramza blinked in surprise. "A cause?"

"The Hokuten and Nanten fight to keep the peace of their regions, and together managed to drive Ordallia away in the 50 Year War. The Death Corps fought in that same war for pay, and fought again in vain when denied their share. And I fight to earn myself and my company decent pay, one job at a time. You even fought pretty strongly for your beliefs a year ago, disillusioned as they were."

"They were for the wrong reasons," Ramza admitted. "Reasons I never would have agreed to if I had known the truth before."

"But you believed in them. You got as far as you did because of that reason. The problem is you haven't bothered to find a new one when Delita has already. I don't care what cause you fight for; be it for gil, or to win the graces of your brothers again, or even to live the lives of those that perished. Just be a man and walk the path you so choose."

Seeing Rad rush back over with two bags at hand, Gafgarion spared Ramza one last glance. "Think about it." Judging from the blonde's now analytical expression and loss of frowning, the dark knight felt satisfied to have gone through that hurdle.

"Here you are, my lord," Rad announced, before reading the receipt. "A dozen potions, half-a-dozen of hi-potions, three vials of ether, and ten plumes of phoenix down; all with a few hundred gil to spare."

"Good work, my boy," Gafgarion smiled, reaching over to accept the bag-

Until a green blur bumped behind Rad, causing him to drop and spill the contents. Nearly all the vials shattered on the ground, mixing the liquids together and making them together. To top it off, the gil bag in Rad's other hand also dropped, and golden bits scattered along the dropped potions.

"Oh Ajora, no!" Rad cried, quickly scampering to the ground any non-broken potion. "This can't be happening!"

"Search for the plumes first!" Gaff ordered, as he joined and focused picking up the gil. "At least they're salvageable!"

"A thousand apologies milord," the green dressed man stressed, having been the one to bump into Rad. He kept bowing, as if an attempt to hide the large red hand-shaped mark on his face. "_A_ _thousand_ a thousand apologies, even! I just didn't see where I was going, and was trying to get away from the angry women over there-"

"Granted how you felt them, I'd say the retribution is well justified," Gaff scoffed to the man, while still looking through the debris of gil and potion mixture.

"At least let me make it up to you, milord!" the man said, leaning close to Gaff's side. "Allow me to-"

A fuchsia jagged dagger was pointed to his jugular vein an instant later. "Don't move."

Gaff and Rad paused in their search. Looking up, to their surprise, they saw Ramza glaring at the shocked man looming over the dark knight's shoulder, pointing one of his knives threateningly close to the man's neck.

"Ramza, what are you doing?" Gafgarion asked, feeling an odd mixture of pride, frustration, and humility.

"He was planning to steal your sword, my lord," Ramza answered, his eyes not leaving the thief. Gaff took a quick look to his side to see the man's hands _very _close to his sword's sheath and buckle.

"He has also stolen Rad's sword the moment he bumped into him, and stored it within his cloth while you both were distracted by the bags dropping." Surprised, Rad turned to his side and saw his sword missing.

"I would further assume that, given his abnormal bulk and previous encounter with the knights, he had confiscated not only their weapons but their armor as well. I could only guess he is meant to leave us defenseless and then run off. Which, at that point, we would be ambushed by his men hiding at various corners of this street; such as the archer up at that rooftop or the wizard to the right pretending to be a merchant. Nice slap mark, by the way."

The Shadow Company's attention was fully on the thief now, who was visibly paling and sweating. They didn't need to look around to know that Ramza was telling the truth; the man's reaction, especially to his 'slap mark', was answer enough.

The thief side-glanced towards the blond wizard, cracking a voice akin between anger and fear and demanded, "H-h-how did you-?!"

"I've trained at the Gariland Academy and know all the basics of how thieves work on the battlefield," Ramza smirked. "It certainly helps that I led command of one in my earlier days."

"Well, the joke's on you," the thief managed to smirk. "You try anything and my team will get the jump you and your female friends over there easy."

"Funny that they haven't done anything with you in our grasp," Gafgarion remarked. "Not much of a team if they're willing to make acceptable losses."

"At this point it's the calm before the storm. You let me go, I'll strike. You attack me, my team strikes. Just because you found me out doesn't mean you'll get out of this alive."

Ramza, Gaff, and Rad all exchanged knowing glances, wordlessly trusting the other to a specific target, as well as Ramza's subtle nudges to where the archer and wizard were. Then they all simultaneously struck.

Ramza threw his left hand to the air, releasing an Aero spell. The archer, aiming for Rad, didn't know what happened before she was blown off from the rooftops and away from the battlefield all together.

Gafgarion, seeing the wizard prepare to retaliate with a spell, drew his sword and struck the ground. Moments later a dark blade struck from behind him, depleting his mana and rendering his spell useless.

The thief, in a desperate retaliation toward the wizard holding him, drew his own dagger and attempted to stab him while he was casting. He didn't count on the squire, being weaponless, to let out a battle-cry and _tackle_ him to the ground. It didn't help matters that all his acquired weapons and armor, and even a few bits of gil and phoenix downs, scattered out of his 'bulky' build.

"Damn it!" the thief cried, in hopes to alert his other comrades. "We've been found out!"

* * *

Agrias was beyond livid. Never mind the fact that some male lecher groped her and each of her knights through their armor, and mock their figures. Even when they realized they've been had, the shameless thief had slipped their pursuit within the crowd. Their chase was in vain, and only earned the Lionsguard one too many stares towards their slight state of undress.

In her knight's arms, she had _a_ thief, judging by his greenish clothes of profession. But he kept insisting he knew nothing of the man they were looking for. She was very tempted to interrogate the man for she _knew _he was hiding something, but she also didn't want to give the wrong impression of herself like with Ramza. Losing her temper again wouldn't do anyone any good, least of all the princess.

"I'm telling you knight-wits, I didn't do a thing!" the thief cried, struggling in vein between Alicia and Lavian's grip on his arms.

"Then surely you'll help us in our search," Agrias suggested, staring at him. Regardless of whether he was telling the truth, it was still a vile profession, second only to the dark knights. As such, Agrias had little reason to give him leeway like last time.

"Oh, just because you got the wrong guy means that you have the right to coerce him to help _your _problems? And here I thought all members of clergy allowed its people freedom of their own choices."

Agrias opened her mouth but whatever she was about to say was interrupted as a gale of wind brushed over head, particularly around the roofs of the houses. Moments later, she caught Gafgarion let out a sword art and Rad tackling another thief.

The one with all their equipment.

"Damn it! We've been found out!"

Hearing the shrill cry of the lead thief, the other proved Agrias' suspicions when slipped out of the knight's grasp flawlessly and stabbed both with drawn daggers.

The female holy knight stood aghast as your two comrades fell unconscious. "Alicia! Lavian!"

"You knight types are all the same," the thief grinned, a sudden turnaround to his 'innocence'. "You swing those swords around breaking hard-earned weapons and armor, when you can barely manage to fight when your own weapon is gone. Turnabout's a bitch, huh?"

A moment later, the man's smirk, and jaw, was broken as a well-timed punch cracked the side of his mouth. Trying to retaliate, he was kneed in the abdomen as follow-up, and slumped to the ground panting.

Fiona loomed over him, clenching her gauntlet-covered hands together. "No one backstabs my friends."

Agrias would recall on a later date to ask of Fiona's physical capabilities, especially after her brief respite back at the monastery, but for now, they had an ambush to survive. Spotting a flash on the roof-tops, she quickly pulled Fiona away where an arrow would have struck her back, and hid against the building itself. The fisticuff knight, however, was just heating up for battle, and had already climbed the roof tops to attack the sniper.

The holy knight settled with staying in place and casting white magic to revive her fellow knights. She was midway to the chant before a wizard sneaked out and chanted a spell. Agrias kept chanting, confident in her own fortitude that she could shrug his black magic off and raise her knights, or even cast Raise faster than he could cast Fire or Fire II.

Except it wasn't black magic he was casting. It was yin yang. And he, as it turned out, wasthe faster caster. "_Paralyze._"

Immediately Agrias felt her muscles constrict, from her toes to her fingers. The somehow static sensation of Paralyze had caught her off guard and forced her to stop. Try as she might, she couldn't finish the incantation, let alone focus her arms long enough to hold it.

"And my colleagues said that training three years as an Oracle was a waste of time," The wizard sneered, most likely smirking under his over-sized hat. His hands moved in rhythm again, mana circling in center. "Now what should I cast this time? Turn you into a stone statue? Watch you flail in a mad frenzy with no use of your arms? Or maybe harness my current vocation and turn you to a frog… so I can step on you."

The holy knight never felt so vulnerable in all her life. Her sword and armor were stolen, leaving her unable to perform her holy sword arts. Even if she did, she was paralyzed that she couldn't make any sort of counterattack, or even retreat in time before his next spell is cast. Two of her knights were knocked out while the third pursue an archer, and Shadow Company was preoccupied themselves with the other half of the ambush.

But despite all that, she held her stance and glared the wizard down, intent to fight off his next mental attack. She couldn't give up now, not like this. Not when Princess Ovelia was in danger!

"Oh ho, determined? You're definitely something else. I almost feel bad that I have to do this." The yellow eyes narrowed slightly as the mana grew larger. "_Almost_."

"Lady Agrias, get down!"

She didn't know the who, when, how, or why, but the holy knight obeyed the voice. Already weak on her knees, she allowed herself to fall forward to the ground, nearly breaking it with her arms out forward. Moments later, a flurry of daggers shot forth and embedded on the wizard's chest.

At first, Agrias thought the man to be dead, for the five blades were dangerously close to his heart. Apparently the wizard did too, as he stared at the knife handles in awe. Then he noticed the mana around him was completely depleted. Alarmed, he hurriedly spun his arms for magic chanting, but to no avail.

"...!" The wizard gasped for sound, but couldn't say anything. He then hesitantly plucked a dagger from his body, slightly wincing from the blood it drew. He stared intently between the wound and the dagger, bewildered by its purple etched design. His face dawned in realization. They weren't aimed to kill, but to silence him.

"Mage mashers are quite humbling, aren't they?" Ramza explained, now standing across the stunned wizard. His hands were pulled back cupped together, harnessing an aria much faster than the spellcaster across from him. "By the way, _Water_."

With a thrust of his palms, a jet-stream geyser shot forth towards the enemy wizard. With not enough time to even guard, the stream effortlessly pushed him away and slamming into a house wall. When the water resided, the wizard slumped down to the ground into a silent coughing fit.

Ramza quickly knelt to the holy knight, helping her in an upright sitting position. "Are you alright?"

"Paralyzed," she croaked. "Help… my knights."

A quick glance over saw Alicia and Lavian slumped over. A barely conscious thief was moving over to end their lives quickly for their life source. He didn't get far before a bloody blade struck from beneath him, draining his remaining life away.

"Are you alright, milady!?" Her third knight came rushing back, in her arms a wounded archer that had been attacking her and Agrias earlier. Aside from a few knick marks from arrowheads, she looked better off than her captain.

"Help..." Agrias asked Ramza again. "Alicia… Lavian."

"Paralysis," Ramza answered for Fiona. "A wizard let it off on her just a while ago. Can you heal her?"

"I'll try. Esuna was something I was learning next, but only Alicia knows Raise, and…"

"Not to worry," Ramza smiled. "I have on me a few phoenix down feathers. Milord and Rad are just finishing up rounding the others, and they should have your equipment back in a few minutes."

Both knights let out a sigh of relief, and smiled to the wizard. In no time he mended both sisters with the blessed items, and Fiona quickly chanted the recovery spell. Ramza, having just finished his first aid, caught sight of her chant and the magic that followed after.

"Heavenly wind, carry us to fountain of power! _Esuna_!"

A silver blue wind spiraled around Agrias' body, engulfing her in its brilliant light. The moment passed just as soon as it came, and the holy knight regained feeling in her body again.

"Thank you, Fiona," she smiled to her knight, who beamed in return. "And… thank you too, Ramza." She added, the smile faltering a bit. In hindsight, she felt bad for ever doubting him at the church.

The blond mercenary also smiled. "Let's save her highness and we can call it even."

"Very well," Agrias agreed, somewhat relieved.

The slight peace between the groups ended abruptly. Fiona gasped suddenly as a sharp pain pierced her body. Looking down, she saw an arrow stuck deeply into her chest, armor absent. Before the event fully registered to any one, a second bolt followed through just as close to her body, nearly killing her on the spot. The archer she was holding on to slipped out of her grasp and backed up against a wall, before making a break for it herself. No deal from the church was worth this.

Agrias was quick to her friend's side, checking her pulse, removing the arrowhead, and quickly reciting the Cure lyrics. Ramza merely stood and stared in shock, before turning to where the direction of the arrow came from. What he saw made him feel a mixed sensation of apprehension and confusion.

Marching into view was an assembly of four knights and two archers, all male, clad in green tunic and capes. They all gathered in front of Ramza and the Lionsguard in half-circle formation, closing off any escape. The leader of the group, a proud lancer downed in golden dragon armor and holding a flag of the Nanten insignia, a black lion on a red shield, rode atop a chocobo with proud deliberate steps. It stopped just far enough for the man's lance to point towards the holy knight's face… should he chose to do so.

"You were the holy knight assigned by the royal family to watch over the princess, correct?" the lancer asked through his open-face helmet.

Disturbed by this sudden questioning and interrupting in her spell chanting, Agrias slowly nodded.

"I've heard that she was escorted by her knight just yesterday, and had left en route for Igros this morning. But if you're still here, then the princess must be as well."

"What are you talking about?" the holy knight glared. "You dare mock us knowing the princess is halfway to your fortress?"

The Nanten blinked in confusion and exchanged nervous glances. "I believe I don't follow," the captain admitted.

"One of your own knights infiltrated the monastery and kidnapped her during the battle!" she snapped. "The fact you would feign ignorance speaks volumes if Goltana thinks so lowly of his soldiers!"

"Tell me," Ramza stepped in before tensions got any worse. "Where is Delita?"

Again the men were confused. "Delita? As in Delita Hyral?"

"He's joined the enemy?"

"I thought he died at-"

"Quiet!" the captain yelled, visibly tense. He turned his direction back to the blond. "Listen, the reasons for Delita's actions are his alone. Last I heard he was… serving under some lord before that night."

The apprentice summoner blinked in confusion. "You sound as if you don't know him. Surely he would be recognized under your faction as a holy knight, a title most would work years to obtain?"

"A holy knight you say?" An archer smirked. "Guess the Beoulve's dog found a new noble family to work under for some pity lessons. Shame the same can't be said for that tramp of a sister, what with Ziekden and all."

A part of Ramza grew very cold, recognizing the startling familiarity of the comment. "How do you know all that?" he asked evenly, suddenly devoid of emotion.

At once the 'Nanten' froze, realizing the slip of tongue they carelessly made. The lancer summed their thoughts in a single word: "Shit."

"_Quake!"_

Ramza's reaction was instantaneous, summoning a wide-spread fissure to the knights in front. They all tripped, slightly disoriented from the sudden attack, save for the chocobo that was quick to jump back in time.

"Ramza!" Agrias cried, but her voice was drowned out by the tailwind erupting behind him. The apprentice wizard may have trained the last year or so as a blue mage, but he had his whole childhood devoted to the sword and combat tactics. He knew he could handle most odds as he had always done when fighting for the Hokuten.

However, the fact he was fighting the Hokuten themselves, as opposed to the tired and poorly prepared Death Corps, made the outcome slightly less favorable. Not to mention his normally acute reason and battle tactics were muddled to his blind rage.

He focused first on the knights, dancing away from their blades with his anti-magic daggers while chanting spell lyrics like a second nature. The knights felt a sense of fear at the slight glow of his eyes and the drone monotonous tone he made while fighting them at once. Two of them that tried to gank him were immediately swept away by a surge of aqua pouring down on them like the Zirekile Falls.

Agrias did her best to assist him, retrieving a sword and shield from one of the momentarily unconscious knights his magic hit. They were of cheaper quality then her own, but she could still harness her sword arts through an iron sword. She was satisfied to strike an archer and knight at once through her attack, and divert some of the attention away from the wizard.

However, their momentum eventually died out because of the overwhelming odds of seven to two (eight if including the chocobo mount), and soldier's knowledge of items and chemistry. Before long, both Ramza and Agrias found themselves pinned to the floor face first, blades dangerously close to their necks (including the re-confiscated sword Agrias had used).

The lancer, still atop his chocobo, took careful looks between both captives. "A shame such a lass is so devoted to the 'royal family'," he sneered at Agrias. "Perhaps then you could have at least lived under Duke Larg's service."

"May not even _Germonique_ have mercy for your soul," the holy knight cursed through her scrunched lips.

"Not that the mercy of a _traitor_ to Saint Ajora matters," the lancer shrugged, before turning to Ramza, having recognized him during the fight. "And speaking of traitors... how long has it been again, Ramza?"

"A year," the apprentice summoner said automatically, feeling a sense of déjà vu. Not that it would matter now if Agrias knew of his past origins…

"A year," the lancer repeated. "Since you disappeared after the massacre of Fort Ziekden, where while Wiegraf and the remnants of the Death Corps faced off with General Zalbag, your _brother_, your own troop came from behind and killed every one of his back-up units before blowing the place to kingdom come? Yes… that sound about right doesn't it?"

Ignoring the incredulous look the holy knight was giving him, Ramza settled with glaring darkly at the man. "He ordered her to _die."_

It took the captain lancer a moment to understand the message, but it bothered him no more than a mosquito. "It was an acceptable loss, Ramza. Teta was a beautiful young woman, no doubt, but with her sacrifice the Death Corps are wiped out from the face of Ivalice. Not many commoners can attest to that. Further, you played your part well in the key battles, especially in facing Wiegraf yourself at one point, and have no doubt brought pride to the Beoulve name. Why if Balbanes were here today-"

"If my father was alive, he would've _never_ stood for this!" Ramza roared, nearly breaking from the knight's hold. "He accepted Delita and Teta into the Beoulve family as his own children! He would sooner die himself than to sacrifice one of his own!"

A knight punched him in the eye to shut him up, while the captain sighed. "Clearly you were coddled too much in your household. Still, Lord Dycedarg wouldn't forgive me if I killed you on the spot just because of bad circumstances."

"Ramza, what's going on?" Agrias finally asked, slightly unnerved of the whole situation. "I thought you were only familiar with the Hokuten."

"I am," he explained, eyes never leaving the captain. "These men _are _Hokuten soldiers, disguised as Nanten. If I had to hazard a guess, only Delita is truly working for Goltana… and he knew Dycedarg was planning to kill the princess just like he did his sister." If any good came out of this, it was at least he knew Delita had pure intentions as always.

Agrias' eyes widened. "Then… that means you're-"

"Ramza Beoulve, illegitimately the third child of the late lord Balbanes Beoulve," the captain finished for Agrias. "You may have shamed the Hokuten back at Ziekden, but the House of Beoulve will welcome you clearly with open arms again after you help us on this mission."

"To kill the princess?"

"Prince Orianas and Duke Larg are the only ones fit to rule Ivalice. To kill her early will is the act of Lord Dycedarg's benevolent mercy."

"Of course, _mercy_," the Beoulve bitterly remarked. "The same he gave to Teta Hyral?"

"Ramza, think about this," the captain pleaded. "We all make mistakes in our lives, but we also learn from them. Your brothers had to make difficult decisions as well to get where they are today. What do you hope to gain for fighting under no flag? No banner? Think about what you're fighting for! Think about your family honor! Think about your _family_!"

The Beoulve was silent. Everyone's attention as keenly on him, for his decision would put his life on the line, either for the Hokuten again or against them. He couldn't imagine himself fighting Dycedarg or Zalbag, and especially not his sister Alma. But he knew in his heart that what happened to Teta and what _will_ happen to Ovelia was wrong. Could he maybe change their methods if under the good grace of Lord Larg and the Beoulve household again?

In his wandering eye, he caught sight of the sky; clear and blue, along with a few clouds floating about, and the shining glare of the sun. Funny how so much was happening on a beautiful day like this one.

_"How nice it would be…_ _to see an azure blue sky… over a peaceful Ivalice…"_

Yes... the sky his mother dreamed so much. She would have loved to have seen it after the end of the 50 Year War, as fleeting as that peace was. Curse the late King. Curse the dukes. Curse the Holy Grail.

_"-the risk of their life, of death, all for the pursuit of a magical artifact that can grant a single wish. Do you not have any cause towards that, Ramza?_"

He had no such cause... at least not the one Larg and Dycedarg seek.

_"A man does not turn his back on truth. A man accepts it, and walks the path he must."_

He couldn't forget the truth even if he wanted to. No man could, once exposed to it... but rarely does a man fight for the _sake_ of truth.

_"Hear me, Ramza… For generations, the Beoulve family has served the royal family. We all bear the soul of a knight. Become a knight worthy of your name. Tolerate no injustice. Stray not from the true path. You will know the path you must walk. A Beoulve can... walk no other..._"

A Beoulve fights with the soul of a knight. A Beoulve walks the path of truth. A Beoulve would tolerate no injustice.

And yet...

_"You're the one who's going too far, just to meet their expectations. You're born a Beoulve, but that name doesn't have to restrict your life. Don't lose sight of yourself, Ramza."_

Alma always knew him so well, much like their mother. She would have said the same thing were she still alive. At the time he laughed at how much she sounded like mother, and ignored her well-meaning advice, but now...

He was a Beoulve, yes, but he was also Ramza. He had let the pursuit of fame and glory for his family name blind him and it had cost him someone close to a sister.

He wasn't going to forget that. Not anymore.

"I refuse," he said with finality. Agrias looked shocked and relieved, while the Nanten masqueraders were startled.

"Ramza, be reasonable," the captain tried again. "Think this through-"

"I have," he interrupted, starring him with a bright gleam in his brown eyes. "And I will not see another life senselessly sacrificed for the benefit of others. It's not justice… it's never justice. And everyone is a fool thinking that these actions will always justify something. I've stood by the sidelines for too long, but no longer. I shall continue to honor my father's wish, even if the name Beoulve means little to me. I'll end this damn cycle of corruption and greed. I'll save Ovelia, save Delita, and stop all this senseless fighting! It is for those reasons I will _win_ the Holy Grail!"

Through Ramza renewed conviction, a burst of blue pushed away all knights crowding over himself and Agrias, and blinded nearly everyone in the area. Ramza, the only one not affected, dug into his pack to reveal the source of the light in the form of a familiar tear-shaped stone. It surprised him to see it overflowing with so much mana, just waiting to be released.

Agrias, having walked towards the light, was also surprised to see Virgo, but for different reasons. "Is that…?"

"My will…" Ramza spoke to himself. "Which has reached out to my servant…" He turned to Agrias. "I apologize for this, Lady Agrias, but I will need to borrow Princess Ovelia's birthright."

Agrias didn't know what was going on, but he implied that the stone in his hands could be used a magic catalyst of sorts. She was wary that he was really a Beoulve, but from the discussion she just heard, he had honorable reasons to leave, and he all but promised to help her find Ovelia. Against his old army, even. If Simon could trust him, then she could too. "Just save the princess and we'll be even."

"Very well," he smiled softly at the ironic use of words.

With that decided, he focused once again on the stone, once more with a clear mind. According to Simon, the aria was already set, and would respond to a strong will of whoever held it. His will to protect others, recalling the memories of his sisters Alma and Teta, as well as his late parents, was enough.

All he wished the servant he called would be like his late father Balbanes, or the strangely familiar woman he had been seeing in his dreams.

_"Come to my aid! Oh valiant champion! **SABER!**_"

Before their eyes, Virgo floated out of his hand and radiated a brief yet bright flash of its hue. Energy and mana started to flow into the stone, drawn in like a magnet. Ramza felt some of his spirit drawn towards the stone, and a burning sensation across his right hand. He barely registered those feelings as he stared at the light and how it started to take shape. Anyone could have sworn it looked like an angel.

Virgo made its unique resonance in center of the shining white figure once before vanishing within the light. Color and form started to dissipate the all-shrouding light from the feet up. The figure's silver metal greaves were first revealed. The edge of a bright yellow skirt appeared just above the shins, alluding to how far the greaves climbed. Hands wearing slightly loose green gloves were shown next, armed with a white shield in one hand and a brilliant blade of bluish silver in the other. The sword was complete with a black guard and gold-coated sheath tied at the body's hip. The arms up to the shoulders were bare and small… almost feminine. The skirt met up to the torso and continued to climb forming a dress, flowing yet firm. The head finally came to view, showing a young face, eyes closed, and blond hair tied up behind in a dark yellow ribbon.

Ramza was simply captivated. The figure before him was a young woman. She was possibly no taller than Alma herself. She had a seemingly delicate body frame, but… she held herself so strong and proud, not unlike how he saw his father when he was younger. The woman's eyes opened, revealing her bright green eyes as she stared at him… the man who summoned her. The man who bore red tattoo marks now glowing on his hand. But most of all, her master.

Before she could speak, the Hokuten surrounding them gaped in surprise, drawing her attention to them. "Damn it, _him_ too?!" an archer cringed.

"He must have spent the last year training for this!" another cowered.

"You guys are over-reacting," a knight smirked. "So what if she's a servant? She looks no different from a common farm girl."

The servant's expression darkened slightly, but Ramza felt disturbingly shocked how the knights recognized her as a servant. _Do they know about the Holy Grail War?_

"Careful, men," the captain spoke, having the chocobo take a few cautious steps back. "She's no eidolon. And she looks like she's of the Saber class."

"A weak Saber, if you ask me," the confident knight scoffed. "Besides, if we just kill Ramza here, she'll disappear in no time."

With that he charged at the startled Beoulve, having the advantage of attacking his exposed side while he could still barely stand. His Servant couldn't stop him in time even if she tried-

…was the last thought that crossed his mind before he was completely bisected with a single stroke of her sword. The moment happened too soon for anyone to notice, but she seemingly flickered from her spot and leaned forward next to the charging knight, making a clean sweeping motion in one strike. The flawless attack of her blade cleaving the man in two bloody halves was akin to a hot knife through butter: no resistance.

"Oh Saint Ajora…" Agrias whispered, both appalled at the act and in awe at the swordswoman.

"This is..." Ramza breathed, just as surprised at the display."The power of a servant?"

Saber calmly stood back upright, glaring at the remaining soldiers. None of them dared to approach her. Instead, they turned towards their now nervous captain, barely keeping his chocobo and himself in place.

"Well?" he barked suddenly. "What are you all waiting for? KILL HER!"

As one, the remaining knights charged while the archers fired arrows at the servant. She deflected them easily with her sword swinging upward like a baton before intercepting a sword thrust with a shield parry. With gaining momentum, she spun around the knights and their constant sword strikes while timing a few of them at their open guards. Compared to Ramza and Agrias before her, she was not at all overwhelmed; the situation was reversed to her favor. The angry struggles of swords and arrows missing was evident.

"She's too good with her arms!" one knight said, referring to her sword and shield.

"Then let's just break them!" another replied, and all three rallied their battle skills.

"_Weapon Break_!"

"_Shield Break_!"

"_Power Break_!"

Three swords joined together in three different angled positions; sword at her right, shield at her left, power at her backside. Saber was not worried, and reacted quickly and accordingly. Before anyone could blink she switched positions of her sword and shield, her right hand gripping the shield and her left holding the sword, and then extended both arms outward to repel the intercepting attacks. To further prove her ambidexterity, she quickly spun counterclockwise around to force the attacker behind her to abandon the attack and parry away.

It was an impressive display of planning and foresight of her reaction to their tactics. The battle skills of a knight were deadly and could cripple any well trained soldier if not careful, but each specific break technique only work towards the necessary targets. For example, Sword Break can only break a sword, because of where the point it aims to shatter the weapon and using enough power to not be parried or dodged if going to slow. However, it wouldn't strike the right weak point for a helmet, would be easily parried by a shield, and would lack the force to break a suit of armor.

Her simple sword-and-shield switch ruined their plan on the spot. That wasn't to say she also gave the archers trouble.

"Hit her, damn it!" the captain ordered his archers.

"We're trying!" one cried. Having just fired an arrow, it looked like he got her good at her backside… until she sidestepped and it hit one of their knights.

"You missed!"

"We won't this time!" another assured. He too fired a bolt at her backside, and this too slipped past her and towards a knight; this time at his head, which resulted in a bloody K.O.

"Oops," the archers both winced at a very bad case of friendly fire as their captain groaned.

The two remaining knights kept striking her, annoyed of how effortlessly she was parrying their attacks. The sword was especially a problem; it looked regal and powerful, probably as rare as T.G. Cid's Excalibur. They agreed her weapon must have some sort of powerful runes to grant the user powers, and it needed to be destroyed.

"Try and dodge _this one!" _They both cried, before swinging their swords overhead simultaneously.

"_Weapon Break_!"

Saber raised her silver sword to guard the attack, much to the confidence of the knights… and then much to their shocked despair when _their_ swords broke a moment after touching hers.

"What in the…?" Agrias gaped as she and Ramza stared in amazement.

"Impossible!" the lancer bellowed, portraying his men's shared feeling.

The servant let out a small chuckle, and spoke for the first time; a charming soft voice that betrayed how vicious she looked and acted. "You _honestly_ believed your sword tricks could break a Noble Phantasm?"

Without waiting for a reply, she spun around once and cut through both their bodies, much like the first time. She then turned her attention to the lancer rider and his two archers. Both of which had lost their arrows and confidence in shooting her down.

"So you say your sword is a Noble Phantam?" the captain spoke, steadying the chocobo ready for a joust if needed. "Then tell me; what exactly can it do?"

"This," she said, before swinging her sword in a wide arc. To everyone's surprise, a silver crescent of mana whipped through the air from where the sword was swung, and flew forward to the remaining Hokuten like an arrow.

"Shit!" the lancer cried before abandoning his chocobo and jumping to the sky. The archers and mount weren't as lucky as the blast hit their chests hard and nearly cleaved them in half. The force, however, was enough to knock them out to near death status only a phoenix down or Raise spell could hope to fix.

"Only one left," the servant said to herself, turning her attention to the sky above. She stood stationary, with her sword arm lowered and her breath even. Ramza and Agrias, long forgotten in the battle, could only watch in anticipation as to what the extraordinary swordswoman was going to do.

Gafgarion and Rad, having just finished their own fight, had rushed over as soon as they saw the summoning light from atop the hill. By the time they arrived, they only saw a massacre of South Sky troops littered around a swordswoman in a dress. "What the hell happened?" the dark knight demanded, sounding slightly dismayed.

"Quiet," Agrias spoke, her eyes not leaving the servant.

Gaff turned to her, offended. "Who are you to order me-?"

"Just watch," Ramza said quickly, also intent on the woman. The dark knight and squire exchanged glances and did as they were told.

The servant's concentration was steadfast yet perplexed. She slowly turned her head and lowered it down as if following a trajectory, and gasped. She found herself starring at a barely recovering Fiona helping Alicia and Lavian back on their feet.

"Get back!" she suddenly cried rushing over to them. Fiona and the others were confused as she pushed them aside, and how she quickly tried to align herself with the sky.

"He wouldn't," Agrias gasped.

"He _would,_" Ramza grimaced.

A few moments later, the lancer shot down from the heavens, lance armed and ready to pierce through one of the Lionsguard woman directly below him, even if the servant woman were to stand before him. At the last moment his weapon extended for the strike… only for the Servant to shift her body aside at the slightest of inches, so it would tear a part of her dress and graze her skin, and continue on until only a few inches away from the recovering Alicia's neck.

Saber's sword followed through with her movements. She pierced the man's insides with more luck than his lance did. In fact, her bloodied blade was what was keeping him suspended, and stopped the man's jump fall completely, and save the knight behind her.

"Your technique is good, but very flawed, and _very_ underhanded," the woman noted grimly. "You don't deserve to be the class of 'Lancer'."

"D-damn… yoooou…" he cursed one last time, before succumbing to injuries and dying. Without another thought the servant tossed his body aside and sheathed her sword, ignoring the slight sighs of relief Fiona and Agrias let out.

"Impressive," Gafgarion said. "That's the first time I've seen anyone intercept a jump attack like that."

"Who is she, Lady Agrias?" Rad asked her. "Another holy knight?"

The orange haired woman shook her head. "I don't know. But… all I know is that she was summoned by Ramza."

The other two Shadow Company mercenaries exchanged confused glances again, before looking at their team wizard, oddly in a trance of his own.

Ramza walked slowly towards the dress-wearing knight, subtly aware this is whom he called for; a strong fighter, a savior for the weak. Everything he wanted, needed, and so much more; even if he wasn't consciously aware of it.

"Are you the servant of the sword, Saber?" he asked her.

"I am," she answered. "And I ask of you in return; are you my master?"

* * *

A/N: It's amazing how much I actually add in when it comes down to it. This other 'third' of Second Campaign is now the second longest chapter in this story ATM. I guess it's fitting, because it showcases Saber with a bang (something I actually tried to get across last chapter but a lot of info came up just leading to it). I thought a nice cliffhanger would be the memorable, if not cliched, statement we recall Saber saying to Shirou in Fate/Stay Night.

So yeah, turns out the Hokuten were trying to kidnap/kill Ovelia the whole time, because an adviser of Goltana's was conspiring against him for Larg's favor. This reveal came via through a slip of tongue, since the soldiers gossiped of the Beoulve's third son Ramza and their pet commoner Delita round-up a good deal of the Death Corps and would know quite a bit about them both. This sort of ruins Gafgarion's contract (having been revealed around Zirekile Falls in the game that he was hired by Dycedarg to kill her as well) without him knowing it, but what he doesn't know won't hurt him yet. And of course, Ramza's true lineage is revealed a bit early. I plan to deviate a bit from canon but also throw in some fun twists here and there.

EDIT: I forgot to mention this and I just want to be clear unless there's some confusion to other readers. Fiona is, technically, the injured nameless knight that was seen in the first battle at Orbonne Monastery warning of the Nanten attack. Originally it was implied she just died, and thought she was also of the Lionsguard, making them one short. So I decided to give an otherwise easily forgotten generic a chance and serve as a third for the duo of Alicia and Lavian. In battle prowess, I picture the iconic knight duo as sisters focusing on either end of faith and bravery respectively. Fiona, on the other hand, would moderate between both, but not insanely skilled in white magic or swordplay (which I picture to be part of the requisite for holy knights).

Next chapter will introduce more of FINAL Saber, and maybe have a misadventure at Araugay Woods. Until next time,

-Vegeta the 3rd


	5. Fourth Campaign

Disclaimer: Final Fantasy Tactics is copyrighted to Square Enix. Fate/Stay Night is copyrighted to Type Moon. Anything done here is for fun and creative liberties to mix the two fandoms together without worry of lawsuit. Also, the picture (minus the title added on via Paint) used for the cover is drawn by 00lin00 of the deviantart website, asked with permission to be used here.

Fate: FINAL

Fourth Campaign

"So its... _just_ Saber?" Agrias asked hesitantly, one of the main questions on everyone's mind upon her introduction.

"It is my title and class, yes," the servant answered stoically. "For the sake of privacy, I would prefer to be addressed by that."

"And the boy is your 'Master'?" Gaff asked incredulously, the second question that popped up since they first saw her.

"Correct," Saber nodded. "I was called to be his sword, and his servant."

There were many factors that led Shadow Company and Lionsguard to spend the night at Dorter. The two groups barely made out the subsequent attacks from hired thugs and masquerading soldiers, and needed to recover. Gafgarion, after hearing an interesting tidbit along the lines of "Seven hundred a head was too cheap for Sir Gafgarion", planned to spend the evening with a captured bandit.

Rad needed to restock on items for both groups due to the misfortune of the encounter, as well as a few more phoenix downs, which the dark knight gleefully reminded Agrias. She herself was reluctant to leave the princess captive for another day. But she succumbed to the general consensus when reminded Alicia, Lavian, and Fiona all needed to rest from their near death experience. There was even the reveal of Ramza's connection and lineage to the Beoulve family, which made the knights a lot more respectable of his valor. Rad himself was surprised to hear about his fight with the disguised Hokuten, but Gafgarion look oddly tense throughout the tale.

The real deciding factor in the end was the interest in Saber, Ramza's 'servant'. The Beoulve could see that much when they started asking her questions moments after checking in their rooms. In the end, everyone was exhausted physically and mentally and wanted to recuperate before marching to the woods west of Dorter. After questioning Saber, that is.

Her sitting posture was stiff yet dignified, much like a noblewoman's. Besides her iron boots, and her strapped shield and sword on her side, she held no evidence she could have been a fighter. Between all that, Ramza idly wondered if that Hokuten knight was right to claim she was a 'farm girl' just by first impressions.

"Servant, huh?" Rad blinked, looking between the two blonds before focusing on Ramza. "Well, I get that nobles are into that sort of thing, but I'd never had you pegged as a guy to get himself a mistress."

"What?" Ramza gaped. The Lionsguard knights flushed, and Gafgarion let out a hearty laugh. Saber barely changed her expression save for a twitch on her left eyebrow at the comment.

"Don't be ridiculous!" Agrias scolded before the master or servant could refute. "I saw their meeting first hand; Ramza summoned her no different than an eidolon."

"Quite a claim," Gaff smirked, still in high spirits. "Did your ears receive what your eyes perceived as well, this time?"

"Don't patronize me," she warned darkly.

"What Lady Oaks speaks is the truth," Saber said. "I was called by Master's word and desire to win the Holy Grail War."

"War?" Lavian blinked at the last word. She glanced to her fellow knights worried. "But the 50 Year War has just ended! Why would we go to war again?"

"Unless it's a civil war," Alicia pointed out.

"For the crown," Fiona added.

"All the more reason to save her highness from being in the middle," Agrias finished. "Though I heard you saying that you would 'win the Holy Grail' earlier. What do you know of it, Ramza?"

The magus frowned, while his servant turned and listened to him with ardent interest. "Just stories that it's a mystical artifact mages from before the Cataclysm had tried to create and harness. The war itself was a ceremony to make it. The grail goes to the victor of the war, between seven magi and their servants, and can grant a single wish. Or rather, opens a gate to the Root of the world. It usually takes a lot of mana to manifest the grail, but in all of Ivalice's time, not once has this war been founded or fought."

"It has also in the past been a secret war between magi only," Saber added. "But the general awareness and acceptance of magic deems this unnecessary as a rule now. My guess is that the pursuit of world-changing magic had waned after the Cataclysm and no one sought to pursue beyond what was already known."

"Sounds about right," the dark knight nodded. "Knowledge and education has been slacking with each new generation, either due to taxes by the nobility or focus on wartime. Unless you're a mercenary in these parts, a man with no name under his belt would be hard pressed to find a suitable income."

Saber sighed. "It's a shame, because Ivalice wasn't always like this."

Ramza blinked at Saber's comment, as did the others. "What do you mean?"

"Magic may be a means for performing abnormal feats for healing or fighting _now_, but for the longest time only a small percentage of people were aware of it, let alone able to harness it. Humanity was able to adapt centuries before through technology in medicine and wide spread communication."

"What changed that?" Alicia asked eagerly. The idea of magic being nearly nonexistent sounded nearly impossible to her… or improbable, as Father Simon would've kindly interjected.

"The Cataclysm destroyed nearly all of civilization, as you all know. Not only had it rendered most technology useless, but it shattered any remaining secrecy to magic. Animals had also mutated into hostile monsters, enforcing the need of metal weapons. Magic was taught and adapted to this new era, as a need to recover and prosper again from their lost technology."

Lavian raised a skeptical eyebrow. "How do you know all this?"

"Rather, how do we know you're not lying?"

"Fiona!" Agrias scolded her knight. She flinched and had the decency to look embarrassed.

Saber looked thoughtful, rather than offended, at the questions. "Your doubt is understandable. I can assure you though that what I speak is not only what I know, but what the grail has told me."

"The grail tells you?" Ramza stared at her. He was still unaware of all the workings of summoning Heroic Spirits. "How?"

"The moment I was summoned, I was imprinted with a general understanding of the modern world, from geography to common knowledge. It is a fail-safe through the summoning ritual so servants can adapt and not experience culture shock. Of course, I can personally attest to my claims since I lived life prior the Cataclysm."

"What?!" The Lionsguard gasped at once. The Shadow Company mercenaries merely stared wide in mute surprise.

"That would have been over twelve thousand years ago!" Alicia shouted.

"Indeed," Saber confirmed. "I am here now as a Heroic Spirit, where my actions in my previous life have been recognized as a great deed to the world."

"Twelve thousand years ago… Heroic Spirit…" Alicia muttered before beaming at the servant. "Then you must know Saint Ajora Glabados!"

"Pardon?" Saber blinked, taken aback. Gafgarion and Rad, seeing the sudden worship amongst the female knights, exchanged amused smirks.

Agrias cut off what would be another fanatic tirade from her knights with a stern glare. Their excitement died on the spot, allowing her to continue to the point of this discussion towards the two blonds. "To reiterate; Saber here was summoned as Ramza's servant for this upcoming Holy Grail War?" Ramza nodded. "And you have to fight six other servants and summoners?"

Saber paused a moment longer before answering. "In most cases, yes, but I'm informed there would be at least thirteen servants in total fighting this war."

"Why thirteen?"

"I'm afraid I do not know myself, for that is all the grail has told me. Forgive me, Master."

"So, since this war isn't secret anymore," Gaff noted. "You wouldn't have to worry about killing people to cover loose ends?"

The servant of the sword frowned slightly, as if conflicted to answer. "Yes and no. It is still possible that our identity could be compromised, as the less people that know our true name when alive, the less people there are to exploit our weaknesses. Also, while summoned in a human body, servants need a constant flow of mana, or even the physical form of energy called "prana", to stay tangible. Should their master be unable to supply enough, an alternative method would be to drain the life energy from people's souls, and get stronger that way. Fortunately my master has enough prana in his body, so I have no need to resort to that."

Ramza was honestly glad of his mana/prana reserves. He was only aware of the energy drain method, and would have hated to be forced into that if having a less than ideal mana charge to his servant. Agrias and the Lionsguard were also relieved, finding the act of killing others for vitality something below chivalry.

Only Gaff and Rad weren't appalled to the idea. Rather, they found it interesting and a tad ironic. "Is that so? Well, it's quite often that when people die, their bodies morph to crystals and their equipment is separated as loot. More often than not the crystals are seen as the ultimate prize in war because-"

"They can restore vitality or impart the deceased warrior's knowledge and skills to whomever claims their leftover essence," the servant bitterly finished for Gafgarion. "Yes, the grail has also informed me of this."

"Then you might benefit from this!" Rad smiled helpfully. "You tore through those knights earlier like they were fresh-out cadets, and they each had several years of fighting at best. The battle memories from all the other soldiers would make you unstoppable!"

Ramza didn't need to look at his servant to know how she stiffened slightly. He was just glad he wasn't the one receiving that look. "Are you implying I am _weak_?"

The squire was surprised by her sudden violent glare and subtle threat. "Huh? N-No, of course not! I just-"

"I am a Heroic Spirit," Saber said, with her voice steadily growing in volume. "My actions, even if forgotten, have helped shape the world so you could live to this day. My power far exceeds that of a mortal man, and only another servant could hope to best me. You dare insult me by _suggesting_ I devour the souls and memories of men and women with skills below my caliber?! No… what's _worse_ is that I should take away their lives knowingly, when I sacrificed my _life_ to ensure they could live their own for generations to come!"

"You had no problem killing those men earlier today," Gaff grimly reminded her.

"I am willing to fight those that wish death if they endanger my Master, but no more. If they should die, then at least their crystals shall return to the Root and cycle of reincarnation naturally, as it should be. A shame the same can't be said for the dishonest vocation of _dark knights._"

Rad was stunned to silence by her brutal rebuttal, while Gafgarion burned red with anger. He turned to see Agrias, looking as pleased as her knights. No doubt for enjoying Saber openly sharing distaste for 'crystal recharging'. Ramza himself was hiding his own relief, but he appreciated her words all the same.

"If I didn't know any better," the dark knight spat. "I would swear she was _your_ servant; or at least another self-righteous holy knight."

"She _would_ make a fine addition," Agrias agreed, allowing a brief smile. She then addressed to Saber another question. "Not that I doubt your good intentions at this point, but what are the chances you'll betray us?"

"Even if I wanted to leave my Master, which I don't, he bears the command spells binding our contract. Using one can result in an absolute command that a servant will obey. These can work as trump cards to perform feats that would be otherwise called as a miracle."

Agrias walked up to see Ramza's hand, starring at his command spells. The design was roughly equivalent to a circle surrounding three stick-like swords crossing over each other in the center. "What do you mean 'miracle'?"

"For example, I could be ordered to fight Lord Gafgarion over there," she pointed to the still mad old man. "Normally I could do so without an order. But to use a command spell would increase my parameters so I would perform to the best in my ability to win. There would also be the case that my Master and I are half-way around the world and away from each other, but he could summon me to his side in an instant through a command spell. Anything that could be seen as otherwise impossible is made so, up to three times at most."

"But only three times?" Agrias asked. "What happens after that?"

"After the final command spell is made, the contract between servant and master is broken, and the servant would have to find a new master for mana or else they disappear. If my Master has to use his command spells, he should at least use only two at most to keep our contract."

The holy knight stepped back, staring at Saber more clearly. The whole time she was silent, as if gauging her word to be honest. Having seen her angry when questioning him, Ramza hoped she would be more forthcoming of Saber.

"I'm honestly still skeptic about all this, but you saved the lives of my knights today." Then she stepped down to her knee and bowed. "I can't thank you enough for that. I would be honored by your assistance in our quest to rescue the princess."

Saber smiled. "I share that sentiment. Thank you, Lady Oaks."

"I guess I'm satisfied as well," Gafgarion shrugged, having calmed down. "All I clearly know is that you're Ramza's bodyguard, and that we have a new recruit for Shadow Company."

"I'm not another squire for your guild," Saber spat, her mood a complete reversal to the kindness towards Agrias prior. "My orders come from my Master only."

"And your master belongs in Shadow Company, where _his _orders come from me. Like it or not, you're a part of my mercenary troop."

Saber scowled, turning to her master for support. Ramza sighed, unsure how to quite reason to her.

* * *

With discussion finally over with, Ramza quickly retreated to the baths and wash himself. Between the attacks earlier today and actually summoning a servant, it was still hard to believe it all happened. But the command spells were still on his left hand and wouldn't wash off. He can at least be sure none of this was a dream, so he tried to relax and wrestle out some of his lingering doubts.

On the one hand, he was relieved Delita was actually innocent. The Nanten that attacked Orbonne Monastery were really Hokuten, hoping to cause disarray within the South Sky. They didn't know of Delita, the holy knight under Nanten, but knew Delita the squire of House Beoulve. It was enough for Ramza to deduce the ruse and figure out the truth; his friend saved the princess from meeting the same fate as Teta.

But that in turn brought the Beoulve a good deal of conflict. As sad as the realization was, he really wasn't surprised of Dycedarg making a plot towards Princess Ovelia's life. He was a close friend to Duke Larg. Wiegraf Folles had once told him that Larg and Goltana were looking for allies to trust in the near future. Killing the princess would be a big burden lifted from Larg's mind and make his ascension to regent all the more easier.

What really bothered Ramza was how the soldiers were familiar with Saber… or rather, aware of what she was. _"Damn it, _him_ too?!" _they had said. Him too… the only other people he could guess that would have summoned a servant as would be either Dycedarg or Zalbag… or both. Maybe even Larg.

Ramza frowned. It would be wishful thinking to not believe either one of his brothers was a Master, because he knew how strong they were. While Dycedarg hardly uses his sword anymore, being a political representative of the Beoulve household, he was still a seasoned Rune Knight with a cunning mind to boot. Zalbag had also inherited all of their father's strength and wisdom as Arc Knight, and would have fooled anyone of his second coming if not for his swordplay.

And then there was Duke Bestrada Larg, rumored to be a great general during the Fifty Year War, but not to the caliber as Balbanes Beoulve or Cidolfas Orlandu. He was merely a charismatic man who rallied troops into fervor every time he spoke to or led them. Of course, being technically a prince, and brother to Queen Ruvelia, certainly helped. Druksmald Goltana, come to think of it, was the same in many of the regards but had years of experience to back his claim instead of the royal family. The only other difference between the two was their age gap.

All Ramza was certain of was he definitely made himself an enemy of the Hokuten. If they had their own servant or two, things would get very dangerous very fast. And even if the princess was rescued, they couldn't escort her to Igros Castle; Larg and Dycedarg made their welcome quite clear. If that's the case, was she safer in Delita's care after all?

With so many thoughts racing in his head, the magus had a difficult time relaxing, let alone hearing someone else enter the water with him. Before he could ponder on that, a brush was pressed on his back and shifted up and down his spine. A soft hand reached over his left shoulder, giving soothing rubs and a position for whoever was behind him to continue scrubbing his back.

"Is this adequate, Master? Shall I scrub higher or lower?"

"A bit lower, thanks," he requested. A moment later, he felt the same brush circle around his lower back in a calming notion. Now this was more like it.

Wait… 'Master'?!

"AAAAH!" Ramza screeched and splashed away. On impulse he reached for his chest, feeling silly that he didn't have his daggers on him. So he settled with the closest thing he could find; a bar of soap. Still acting on instinct, he rose up from the water in a battle ready position at the person behind him… to find Saber.

Or rather, a naked Saber waist deep in barely clear water, hair down at neck length, a back scrubbing brush close at hand, and her chest in full view. Her green eyes were wide in surprise, starring a good deal at him as he did her, but mostly lower. It wasn't until the gradual reddening of her face did he realize exactly _what _she was looking at.

The Lugria dived back down, albeit forcefully, and crotched low in a feeble attempt to hide under the water. In the span of thirty seconds, he squealed like a girl, brandished some soap like a sword, caught sight of a young woman's modesty, and exposed _his _to the same woman. He embarrassed himself completely in a way not becoming of the Beoulve name. His family would have been so ashamed of this… after they finished laughing at the context anyway.

His father in particular must be rolling in his grave right about now.

"Saber," he croaked uneasily, turning slightly to look at her. He turned back noticing she wasn't hiding her chest from view, but looked as embarrassed as he felt. At least she wasn't screaming or hitting him. "Why are you in here?"

"To wash your back," she answered softly.

"_Why_ were you washing my back?"

"It was dirty, and I hoped a throughout clean would have pleased you. Did I do something wrong?"

Ramza had to admit, when she arrived it was very pleasant…no, _no!_ Do _not_ think that way! "It's not that you did something wrong, it's just… I'm a boy, and you're a girl. This is indecent."

"Is there something wrong for a servant serving her master?" Saber innocently asked.

"Considering that this is a _men'__s_ private bathhouse, yes it is. It's technically a male servant's job to a male master when in the bathhouse."

"But Sir Rad and Lord Gafgarion permitted me to enter."

Ramza blinked, then turned to stare straight at Saber's green eyes with his brown. "What?" he asked in utter deadpan.

"I had asked them both who was in charge of your baths, and if you had already a servant that saw to it. They knew of no such arrangements and allowed me to see to your baths, starting today; in good cheer, no less."

The magus could feel his right eye twitch in annoyance. The other two Shadow Company mercenaries were probably expressing their 'good cheer' through hearty laughter. They have no interest in Saber themselves, at least; not when they could charm a brothel of women every time they visit a bar. No doubt this was their new ploy to try and get him infatuated with a willing participant of the opposite sex, whether Saber knew their intentions or not.

"…of course they did," he bitterly agreed and turned away before he saw anything else again. To get his mind off that discussion, he lathered his arms with the soap he found. "Regardless, I do not require you to wash me; I can handle my own cleanliness."

"Is that a command, Master?" Saber asked timidly.

He looked briefly at the command spells on his hand, frowning. "No, it is a request. You are better suited towards battle, and I wish not to demean you by cleaning up after me."

"You are considerate, Master," she admitted. "But I act on the desire of not a servant for the grail, but as a servant for nobility."

"You were a maid?" he asked, baffled. A Heroic Spirit, the servant of the sword, was a _maid_ in her past life?

"Sort of. I saw to a lot of duties to the family I was assigned, but I loved it all the same. Back then it was common for the nobility to have servants see to all sorts of duties such as washing after them. Especially female."

"I appreciate it but I feel your talents would be wasted. I mean, do I even look like nobility to you?"

Saber nodded without skipping a beat. "Of course, Master. In fact, I would say you come from a very high class family, probably old enough to be its trusted heir."

It was odd hearing such an honest answer for a rhetorical question… especially when technically she was right. "My family is powerful, yes, but I'm hardly trusted to be heir material. I'm the third son in line, and my older brothers are far more capable and respectable leaders than I could ever be."

"Oh," Saber muttered. There was a slight tone of disappointment in her for some reason.

"Furthermore, I'm only half nobility on my father's side. My sister and I were born from a commoner woman, after his first wife died." A brief pause, with the sound of slight water ripples. "Both mother and father are dead, and I ran away from my household. My brothers would most likely want me dead if I ever show my face again."

"That isn't right!" she cried briefly. Slightly embarrassed of her forthcoming, she fought back down her voice before continuing. "Ranking or not, you're still family. They would accept you regardless of your own shortcomings."

Ramza smiled wistfully. "Yeah, they would. But that's only under the pretext that I would help them to kill the princess. To them, family is more expendable than reputation."

"You don't know that for sure," she reasoned.

He turned again to stare at her, the state of nudity nearly forgotten on them. His gaze was steady and forlorn, surprising her own. "When I fought as a Hokuten squire, I was praised by both my brothers for fighting like a knight our father would be proud of. It was the first time I was ever complimented by either of them. They only looked my way when I became a viable asset to their cause, only because I shared blood. Delita and Teta had it worse than me though."

"What do you mean, Master?"

"Delita and Teta were close siblings, adopted by my father after their own parents died of the Plague," he answered, much to Saber's surprise. "Having fought with Sir Hyral in the Fifty Year War, father sought this out as a favor to his friend. Father wanted us to see them as family as well, but it didn't hide the fact they were still of common blood. Where I would get patronized remarks, Delita's own skill would be ignored and ridiculed, despite him being my equal. My sister also told me that Teta would be bullied at her school because of rank, yet she hides it with a brave smile so not even her brother would know."

Ramza sighed, thinking back on, as Gafgarion had called it, 'his finest hour'. "At the time, we were in charge of disbanding a small group of Death Corps warriors at a fort south of Igros. While we were gone, another group had attacked the castle and kidnapped Teta for ransom. They assumed her to be a Beoulve and were desperate for leverage. Dycedarg assured me that they wouldn't let her die but… Zalbag, he…"

Saber said nothing.

"By the time we got there it was too late," he said, failing to calm himself. "Even if she wasn't a real sister… even if she was just another civilian… it was still wrong." He slammed his fist to the water, splashing the area. "AND YET HE STILL ORDERED THE SHOT TO KILL HER!"

His servant had lowered her head from view, and griped the brush in her hand tighter. It wasn't until the two of them further eased their tensions that she asked, "Is this why you wish to save Princess Ovelia? To prevent what happened to Teta?"

"The Hokuten want her dead because she's a threat to Duke Larg's position as regent," Ramza said. "She's a liability and a public show for their weakness. Weakness that none of them would rather have. Delita and Caster may have intervened, but if my brothers summoned a servant as well, they wouldn't hesitate to finish the job themselves."

"He may be your friend, but the Holy Grail War depicts all Masters as enemies," Saber reminded.

"Doesn't say I can't ask for an alliance," he countered. "I know for sure he isn't an enemy, and I have always trusted him before with my life. He's given me no reason to stop now."

"I recall hearing from Lady Oaks that she found you sprawled on the floor of the monastery after confronting him."

"…he's given me _little_ reason to stop now," he amended, much to Saber's amusement.

"Shall I continue washing your back, Master?" she asked.

"Ye-NO! No!" Ramza splashed away and broke gaze with his servant. "I already told you I can clean myself! There's no need for you to do so."

"But Master-!"

"And while we're on the subject," he continued sternly. "I would prefer if you don't call me Master. It reminds me too much of being a noble."

Had she not heard the story about his family, Saber wouldn't have seen that as an issue. Seeing him humble and honest was quite endearing… and rare for a magus of any age. "What shall I call you then?"

"My name is Ramza Beoulve. Or rather, it's Ramza Lugria as I prefer to call myself now."

"Ramza… Beoulve…" Saber voiced, somewhat mystified. Then she smiled. "Yes, Ramza is much better than Master."

"Glad you agree," he smiled. "Now… if you would be so kind to leave me to my cleaning duties-"

"Actually," she cut in, sounding a tad embarrassed. "There's something I wish to ask you Ma-Ramza."

Curious, the Beoulve turned to her for the third time tonight. She appeared shy and meek, almost ready to bolt on an instant if needed. He had conflicting interest about that, shameful to admit. "What is it?"

She held out the brush in her hand to him. "Could you perhaps… wash my back in return?"

"Wha-?!" He gaped.

"Not as a servant, mind you!" Saber quickly insisted, blushing brighter. "It's just... when we were young, my brother and I always shared the same bath, and would take turns cleaning each other. It was one of the happier moments of my past life."

"Because you were a female servant and had devoted more time to cleaning up others then the other way around?" Ramza guessed.

Saber nodded shyly. "I know this is a lot to ask but, you remind me so much of my brother. I want to believe that I'm with him again… just once."

The magus didn't know what to say to that. The more he looked at her, the more she reminded him of his sister. The same frame, the same face, even the same kind yet subtle twist of wordplay. But what really reached out to him was the fact that they two shared bath time when they were younger. He too wished he was with his sister again, in those meaningless yet peaceful days.

Ramza exhaled a defeated sigh. He then took the brush from her hand and pointed with it for a brief lecture. "Just this once, and under the condition that you do not interrupt my private bathing time in the future, will I do this. Is that understood?"

Saber smiled and nodded, clasping her hands together. "Thank you, Ramza!"

"Now please turn around before I change my mind," he ordered with a touch of humor.

Saber more than happily obliged. Turning around in the water, she bent over showing him her slim white back. He marveled at the sight for a few moments, tracing his hand upward towards her slim shoulder. He then clasped it and started to lightly scrub her backside. For a while, no words were exchanged, and none were needed to be.

His servant eventually broke that silence. "Ramza?"

"Hmm?"

"What's your sister's name?"

"It's Alma," he answered.

Saber allowed a slight smile on her face, hidden from view. "It's a beautiful name; she's fortunate to have it."

Ramza raised an eyebrow mid-scrub. "What do you mean?"

"No real reason," she smiled a bit wider. "Just jealous."

* * *

"I'm telling you, woman, we're _lost_!"

"And I'm telling _you,_ _Sir Gafgarion_, to hold your peace!"

The eventual hike through Araguay Woods did not turn out well for anyone, lest of all Gafgarion. He clicked his foot over the umpteenth log in the forest today. His building anger was starting to disrupt his steady footing, which was hard to begin with because of the uneven leveling of the forest.

Climbing up the leaf-covered dirt path, they eventually passed between a large boulder and a large toppled tree slanted over it, tipped over by natural elements. Beyond from the shade of the tree was a large open gap of leaf-coated grass and endless rows of tall trees. Their branches and leaves nearly obscured the view of the sun above them, leaving trace amounts of light through the shade.

Gafgarion wasn't moved in the slightest. "I swear we've past the same overturned tree and boulder five times now! We're no closer to your princess then we were at Dorter!"

"If you don't like it, you can always go back to the city!" the holy knight barked. She and her knights marched forward ahead of the mercenaries like before, but at a slower and controlled pace than when they left the monastery yesterday. "You know the way back, I hope."

"As a matter a fact, I don't, because _we're lost!_"

"Are you questioning my authority?" she angrily warned.

"That; and why you still have that stick stuck up your fat arse." Rad and Ramza cautiously sidestepped away from their leader after he said that.

Agrias stopped and turned to the bickering old man. Her scorned fury was about to unleash itself on the dark knight, who was more than inkling for a fight himself. Their glares intensified to conducting sparks, convincing their fellow charges to take a few steps back, preparing for what would be a brutal bloodbath.

Only Saber was not alarmed by the two knights' behavior, instead staring up one of the trees in the area. "We are searching for the route to Zirekile Falls, correct?"

"Yes," Ramza answered, eyes not leaving his lord or Agrias Oaks. "It is on route to Bethla Garrison."

"Then why don't we find the river?"

Everyone stopped and turned to the servant. "The river?" Lavian repeated.

"The waterfall has to come from somewhere, yes? A river should be somewhere in the woods, flowing in from the Limberry region. Fortunately it is the spring season, so if we follow the current, it will lead us to the waterfall."

Everyone continued to stare at her in mute surprise. They then followed Saber's gaze up to the trees.

"Rad," Gaff ordered, recovering first and still staring. "Climb that tree and find the river."

"What?" Rad squeaked, prompting the dark knight's attention to him. "Why me?"

"Because I'm old, Ramza's the wizard, Saber only listens to Ramza, and I don't trust the valkyries any further than I can throw them." Agrias and her knights glared at him. "Not to mention the squire always listens to his commanding officer. Now get climbing!" he pointed to the closest tree.

Reluctantly and muttering under his breath, Rad set aside his pack and sword, and borrowed Ramza's cloak along with two of his Mage Mashers. When he finished tying the cloth on him and swinging it around the tree, he began the climb. Everyone watched as he scaled the tree stab by stab with control and focus, far betraying his look as a simple squire.

Gaff allowed a small smirk of pride. "He'll make a fine dark knight, someday."

"What's his story, anyway?" Agrias asked him. "I can understand recruiting Ramza in your mercenary troop, but a man with no military background or dignified class wouldn't earn the ranks of either the Hokuten or Nanten, let alone the Touten or Nishiten."

"The problem with you 'honourable knights' is that you ignore the potential of power in a sword. You only focus on aspects of charisma and how to obey orders from your superiors. A chained dog can only go so far, but a wild animal knows no bounds."

"A wild animal…" Ramza's brows furrowed, gazing up at the ever shrinking figure of the climber. He had heard that term before during his days as a Hokuten soldier. "Rad was a brigand?"

Gaff nodded, ignoring the slightly shocked looks of the Lionsguard. "A sloppy one at best, but Rad had instinct. He learned quick and best hands on, and had had worked with a few others up at the Zekilus Desert. He was no doubt an orphan left behind during the 50 Year War, and from what little I learned from him, his father was Ordallian."

"His mother was raped?!" Fiona gasped. "That's horrible!"

"A conceived child from a war prisoner on the enemy's side," Alicia frowned. "I'm surprised he's still alive."

"Even though his mother was later rescued, he was still abandoned," Gaff said. "And even if he wasn't, no one would have allowed him to join a military of any kind because of his mixed blood. He wanted to fight for his mother's country, but she and everyone else saw him as a bitter reminder of their enemy. In a way, his ethnicity became his strength. It has made him a true warrior and convinced me to take him in as my apprentice."

"I guess that would explain why he was a brigand for a while," Lavian noted.

"I assume you fought him before you recruited him?" Agrias asked.

"Yes, but I had expected it to be a simple hunt at the time. While unrefined, he actually gave _me_ a hard time in battle. If not for my sword arts, I would have been dead, and this conversation wouldn't have happened. Never before had I fought someone so savage in battle; he's much like an Ordallian in that regard. He makes me look tame in comparison to bloodlust."

"You're one to talk," she glared. "You may as well further corrupt him. Last I've heard you were expelled from the Touten knight order because you shamed them with your own brand of barbarism."

Gaff spread his arms out and looked around the empty forest. No shame was evident on his face; only mock surprise. "And yet here we are, still standing in the free land of Ivalice, having thwarted the invaders! You can insist that chivalry and honor won the war, but that's just the broom that sweeps away the dark truth. Some actions must be done discreetly and against established society, because the country needs to survive and the law can't stand to be a hypocrite."

Agrias stared at him with contempt, as did her fellow knights. Ramza and Saber, felt an odd sense of familiarity and understanding, while still discouraged.

"I saw in Rad the same thing I saw in Ramza when I took him in; the power to be someone _great._ Not some good little soldier like your three dames, but someone that will fight on his own accord and for his own goals. For every man that is meant to follow orders until death, there needs to be others to lead them. But more importantly, there needs to be people bold enough and crazy enough to break the rules for necessity of others."

"And you believe wild animal is better than a chained dog, despite being a danger to others?"

"With the right direction, they can. My only regret is that I didn't see my chance soon enough."

Out of the corner of his eye, Ramza saw his servant let out a sigh and sad smile. "I suppose that would be one of my regrets as well," she said to herself.

Ramza turned to her in concern. "Saber?"

"_Wark, wark! Wark, wark!_"

Everyone stopped and turned to the source of the monster cry. Before their eyes, a large, tall yellow bird dashed through the forest in long strides, each step leaving a four pointed print.

_"Gob gob gob gob! Gob gob gob gob!"_

Trailing not too far behind it were a pack of red and purple clothed furry monsters with pointed ears and small machetes in their hands. The bipedal monsters were marginally slower than the bird, but were still very determined to catch it, making excited noises at the prospect of a meal.

"What's a chocobo doing this deep in the woods?" Fiona asked aloud, following the bird jump away from view on its trek run.

"Must have wandered too far into goblin territory," Alicia suggested. "Luckily they're naturally faster than most other monsters. Even if goblins are the weakest monsters out there, they're hard pressed not to be ganged up by."

"Maybe we can use it?" Ramza asked, watching the goblins climb over a fallen tree their prey leaped across. "Delita once told me that wild chocobos are hardier than domestic ones."

Gaff turned to him incredulously. "Use it for what? It's poached hide? I prefer gil in my purse over feathers, and common chocobo, wild or not, hardly make a profit."

"Ramza's got the right idea, though!" Lavian smiled. "We need all the help we can getting the princess, and chocobos are a knight's best friend!"

"One chocobo can't help us get any closer to Zirekile," Agrias reminded. "Let's wait until Rad finds the river."

"_My lord!"_ the squire called from atop his tree. Looking up, the others could barely make out the tiny dot close to the sun's glare.

"What do you see, Rad?!" Gafgarion called back.

"_There's an opening in the forest to the north east of here, and what I think is a body of water; maybe a stream or river. It looks like Saber's right!"_

"Good work! Now get your arse down here so we can be on our way!"

"_Aye, aye, my lord!_"

"But what about the chocobo?" Lavian asked as Rad stared to climb down. She sadly stared at the direction it was chased off by goblins, fearing for the worst.

"It is as your sister told you," Saber told her. "Chocobos are very swift and can outrun any other creature. If it was cornered by the goblins, I would worry as well, but goblins are not very bright in catching their food. They'd most likely keep chasing it away until they reach the chocobo territory and flee off."

"You think so?"

"I know so. An old story my mother read to me once as a child was about a group of stupid pig goblins that tried to steal and eat some chocobo eggs. Needless to say, they were all but blown up because they underestimated how dangerous a herd of angry birds can be. It was a silly yet fun story with a simple moral; never underestimate the wrath of a mother hen."

"I guess you're right," the knight said, sighing slightly. "I wanted to ride it, though."

"I can understand that," the servant smiled. "It has been a long time since I had the pleasure of riding myself. Don't worry; they'll always be another chance."

The group resumed travel by Rad's direction, to which the squire was just about finished climbing down the tree. Lavian kept looking at the fallen tree, somewhat yearning, but was pushed forward by Alicia and Fiona to keep up the march. Gafgarion, for his part, looked somewhat content to have direction now and Agrias was slightly calmer not to listen to his complaints and criticisms.

Ramza, silently amazed of Saber's knowledge, tripped over a root while he wasn't looking. His servant was at his side in an instant and caught him. Once more surprised, Ramza let out a nervous smile. She returned it. He could almost swear she could make the ground shake under his feet-wait... this was real!

"_GOB! GOB! GOB! GOB!"_

Shadow Company and the Lionsguard stood tense, seeing goblins rush towards them at alarming speed. One managed to get in front of Ramza and threw a magically enhanced punch at him. He caught sight of the goblin's arm nearly doubling in size, for just a moment.

Then he felt the enraged fist hit and knock him to the ground on the side of his head. _Oww._

"Ramza!" Saber cried. Enraged of the harm done to her master, she quickly drawing her sword and cleaving the offending goblin's head clean off as it ran away. The body collapsed moments later, next to the chopped head with a startled expression. She then knelt to Ramza and helped him up.

"I'm fine!" he said. "We have to help-"

He noticed that the others all had their swords drawn and slew another goblin that got too close to them. However, they were just as confused to see that the other three kept running past them, not even looking back to avenge their fallen kin.

"_GOB! GOB! GOB! GOB!"_ they kept crying.

"Goblin skirmishes are easy, sure," Gafgarion sheathed the blood off from his sword. "But this was _too _easy, even for me."

"It was almost like they were running away from something," Agrias added. "But what?"

Saber stared between the corpses and the still fleeing goblins. "One, two, three, four, five-" Her eyes widened. "_Six_ goblins."

"Six?" Fiona blinked. "I only count two corpses and three chickens. Two and three makes five, not six."

"_Five_ goblins come back to this route after _six_ goblins chase a chocobo to its territory." Saber slowly explained. "Where's the _sixth_?"

The silence was deafening. Ramza looked down to the ground to see loose gravel and small rocks shake and tremble. It wasn't just his imagination; the ground _was_ shaking. And soon everyone heard it, gradually breaking the silence.

"STAMPEEEEEEEEEDE!" Rad yelled, already sprinting. "RUUUUUUUUUN!"

Gaff's face paled, and he started jogging after through the woods repeating a single word. "Shit shit shit shit shit shit-!"

Saber turned to Ramza and lifted him bridal style. Before he could protest, let alone feel embarrassed, she strode through the forest with grace and speed, being among one of the leading runners.

"Lionsguard! Retreat!" Agrias ordered, mostly on impulse than necessity. They abandoned all sense of careful footing for the preservation of their lives.

For Lavian, it proved to be her downfall, literally. "Aaah!"

Now at a safe distance, Alicia turned to see her sister tripped down to her knees. "Lavian! Hurry!"

The older knight reached for her leg with both arms, attempting to yank it free. "I'm stuck in the growth! I can't get out!"

Saber, after carrying a flustered Ramza across the trembling field, clicked her teeth and looked around. Her hand reached out for a sturdy vine growing from a tree, yanked it once to test it, and then pulled it out all together for a long rope.

"What are you doing?" Agrias asked.

"Saving your knight," Saber answered, and before anyone else could say anything, jumped back into the clearing.

Ramza's eyes widened with alarm, reaching his arm out to her fleeting form on impulse. "Saber!"

She landed right in front of Lavian. Looking up, she saw the chocobo swarm coming into view. They all effortlessly jumped over the tree and other debris in the forest, kicking up leaves below them in a dust storm that obscured view from their sides. They were shades of yellow all over, of many sizes and ages, with beaks just as dangerous as their feet snapping at alarming every other moment.

Lavian felt very scared of the prospect of being trampled to death by chocobos before evening getting to ride them. She just hoped that Saber could free her from the growth before both of them were run over.

"Looks like you'll get your chance after all, Lavian," the servant suddenly spoke.

Lavian blinked. "Huh?"

Saber turned to her and smiled. "To ride a chocobo. Watch closely."

Just as the knight blinked, the dress-clad servant _blasted_ towards the herd, wielding not her sword but a vine whip. A part of her wondered if Saber was really crazy to do what she's about to do. But then she remembered she's a heroic spirit, and quite capable of accomplishing daring feats, so Lavian watched with growing wonder instead of fear.

Saber whipped her arm just as she jumped towards the chocobo in front of her, one with golden feathers and a quick beak reaction. As it snapped at the vine, she landed squarely on the bird's back, ignoring the slight soreness on her rump. The chocobo reacted accordingly and let out a screeched in a ready attempt to buck her off. However, the servant was quicker and secured both ends of the vine in her arms, tugged it back until it hit the sides of the bird's beak.

"Heel!" she cried. The chocobo didn't relent, and many others now rushed past and around them, ignoring the control crisis of one of their own. It cried again, rising its body high until it was close to tipping over its own weight, in an attempt to have the rider fall off its back so it would peck her to death. Saber, however, held fast to the vine as her lifeline and bucked her greave covered legs to the sides of the bird.

"_Heel!_" she ordered again. The bird readjusted its weight and was subdued against its will. It wasn't normal that a human could just jump on and tame a chocobo, but she had a very strong grip and a sort of assertive nature that it approved of. Satisfied and thankful for her innate riding skill, Saber kicked it again. "Now go! Hiyah!"

The chocobo listened, running through the stampede in quicker attempts to be at the lead. By some stroke of luck, or perhaps even Saber's riding, the chocobo came first out the stampede and skid to a stop in front of Lavian.

Saber switched both vine reigns into one hand as she drew her sword with the other. Forcing the chocobo's body up, she swung the blade once, releasing a mana burst from it. "Ha!"

The attack disoriented the birds successfully, forcing them to stop. However, they were still skittish and agitated, and attempted to run again past the rider. Saber easily moved her chocobo every other way, holding out her sword in warning like a torch to monsters of the dark. The other wild birds cowered from it whenever it got too close.

"Don't just stand there!" Saber cried out, though her eyes didn't leave the birds before her. "Help me entrap them!"

Suddenly Ramza knew what she planned to do and focused on his blue magic aria. Not a minute later, he unleashed the spell. "_Subtle tremor, crack the surface! Quake!_"

By the end of the chant, the earth near the chocobos shifted and parted at a controlled pace. The path moved parallel pass the chocobos, still baffled and perplexed by Saber's magic sword. Before they knew it, they were cut off from their advance _and _escape because of a three foot wide dirt mound surrounding them. With their stampede completely thwarted, they looked about ready to retaliate.

Then, with a small smile, Saber withdrew her sword and stroked the face of her mount. "It's alright," she said soothingly, made all the more better with her delicate touch. "It's alright."

The chocobo was interested. For a human, she wasn't half bad in managing to ride it. She was also very gentle and calming, which reminded of those Mediator characters that often convince monsters to join them as pets. She proved to understand empathize with them through action instead of words. In the end, it wasn't shamed that this human rode her; rather, the chocobo felt a sense of pride to bear such a person upon its back. The other chocobos, starring at her and amongst one other, felt the same thing, along with a touch of jealously.

As Agrias, Alicia, and Fiona rushed over to help Lavian, the trapped knight just stared at her savior with no small amount of admiration. She had heard stories of men that rode chocobos before, but the way she fearlessly handled a wild _charging_ one and then calmed the entire herd down (with the help of Ramza of course), it was simply amazing. What's more, she saw it happen with her own eyes, and was the _damsel_ of the event! If it weren't for the fact Agrias was right next to her and her sister would never let her hear the end of it, she would have fainted on the spot.

Shadow Company was equally stunned; perhaps more so than the Lionsguard. For Gaff and Rad, it was the first time they saw her fully in action when the situation called for it, and she managed to deliver in finesse. Ramza was familiar with her prowess and still disbelieving it was all her in her prime. But his reason, while unclear to even himself, was of a more personal feeling.

"So she can beat up highly trained soldiers and tame wild chocobos like a second nature." Rad said, still starring at her.

"She's sharp as a nail and just as cunning," Gaff nodded. "She's a fine addition to the troop."

"She's beautiful-"

Ramza stopped himself too late; he could feel the two mercenaries turn to him surprised and incredulous… and somehow adopting a smug look as the seconds pass.

"-_beautifully_ well trained and adaptable," he recovered, trying not to stare at her smile and pet the chocobo. He didn't seriously think _that_ earlier, did he?

Rad and Gafgarion exchanged glances and wide smiles. Then they laughed, _loudly,_ much to the Lugria's embarrassment. "What? She _is_!"

"I'm _sure_ she is, boy," Gafgarion smirked between chuckles. "I'm _sure_ she is."

It wasn't until that statement that Ramza caught what his lord meant… and his embarrassment increased two fold.

_God damn them._

* * *

A/N: Took a while again, and this will probably be the last one I get in before the summer vacation ends and I go back to college. I will promise you that the Zirekile Falls chapter coming up next will be the most intense one yet.

Rad/Ladd always got the short end of the stick when it came to FFT fanfiction, more so than Gafgarion. Everyone remembers Alicia and Lavian, but less so Gaff's squire, who usually dies one way or another. I thought it would be nice to give him some back story, as well as something that connects him to Ramza and Gafgarion; trouble with adjusting to the norm of society. In his case, he's half Ordallian (the invaders) that happened to be conceived over the course of the FIFTY YEAR WAR (hint hint, long time).

Nishiten I came up with, since there was no Order of the West Sky knights around. Granted, the Touten were significant in only revealing a part of Gafgarion's history, then forgotten. Heck, a lot of history before and during the 50 Year War is blank, but given the story and relevance was on the present, I don't really blame Square for that. Just leaves a lot more potential for writing and planning for us fanfiction writers, you know?

Anyway, see you all next time.


	6. Fifth Campaign

Disclaimer: Final Fantasy Tactics is copyrighted to Square Enix. Fate/Stay Night is copyrighted to Type Moon. Anything done here is for fun and creative liberties to mix the two fandoms together without worry of lawsuit. Also, the picture (minus the title added on via Paint) used for the cover is drawn by 00lin00 of the deviantart website, asked with permission to be used here.

Fate: FINAL

Fifth Campaign

In hindsight, the chocobo stampede was a blessing in disguise for everyone, thanks to Saber and Ramza. After the servant successfully calmed down the herd with little trouble, she managed to calm seven other birds for the Lionsguard and Shadow Company to ride as their own. The river that Rad had spotted from above was within chocobo territory, so the ride over was met with no other encounter. The chocobo herd more than greatly lead, or rather followed, the lead rider and her entourage to their destination.

The fact that they now had mounts was all the more helpful. There was some disagreement though, such as Alicia and Fiona expressing the downsides of riding wild birds outside of domestic ones, which was mainly the difference between how much control they needed. Gafgarion was more concerned on lodging space, as they're tend to reproduce within a week and would there would be more birds than men in a month. And that was even if there was _only one chocobo_ at the time.

However, between Saber's quick and easy lessons of riding and Ramza's reminder of time was quick to win the favor of Lavian and Agrias respectively. Rad needed no lesson himself, and took naturally to riding his chocobo, whom he named Cecil, almost as quickly as Saber did. The Lionsguard knights, save Agrias, wondered amongst each other if it was because of his 'feral' days and mixed blood.

In only a few minutes that would have otherwise took hours to make on foot, the chocobos and the riders reached the clearing and the riverbed. It was surrounded by small patches of green grass, a shallow, clear blue running stream filling a ditch of smooth pebbles and loose gravel. Both parties were given only a few moments to marvel at the scene before the herd of chocobos all gathered at the side for water.

Saber smiled and let her mount walk on. "That's it, Terra; drink up. You've more than earned it."

It was the general consensus that the Lionsguard and Shadow Company would rest briefly and clean their weapons of blood before riding to Zirekile Falls. If they were fortunate that Delita and Caster moved without chocobos, there was still time before they escaped to Bethla Garrison with Princess Ovelia.

The dark knight and his squire sat by a log to take a nap, and Agrias instructed her knights to go over their equipment once again before the upcoming battle. Ramza found himself tending to his bird Locke, brushing some dirt off his feathers as he drank. He was positioned just at the river's edge alongside Saber, sitting and petting her mount. The Beoulve found himself once again staring at her; at her soft smile, at how gentle she caressed Terra's neck to the chocobo's delight, at the waving bangs of her hair and the helm of her dress in the wind.

It was so uncanny how much she reminded him of Alma, and the magus wondered if she was doing well.

The servant eventually looked up and exchanged glances to her master. "Is there something wrong?"

Ramza flushed slightly, not meaning to stare at her for so long. If he hadn't, he might have avoided pinching a sore spot on Locke by instinct, and avoided what was about to happen.

_"Wark! Wark!_" the chocobo squawked, flailing about and dashed into the water. Startled, Ramza found himself dragged off when slung over Locke's neck, unconsciously gripping tighter out of fear. It was for naught, as the bird's speed and lack of control eventually threw him into the water before running off again. He would eventually calm down through the intervention of the Lionsguard knights and fellow chocobos.

"Ramza!" Saber cried, hurrying over and pulling the Beoulve up. "Are you alright?"

"I've been through worse, believe me," he said, brushing his dripping hair back. "I'm fine, thank you."

"You're soaked to the bone, Master! A horrible misfortune, to be sure, but you could have been grievously injured, or killed, or worse! I must have done something wrong; surely you must have noticed something wrong in my services!"

"What?" Ramza blinked. He was slightly alarmed how quick she was to blaming herself. Really, soaking robes clinging to his body wasn't _that_ bad, was it? "Saber, you couldn't have done something wrong so soon. You were only summoned two days ago."

"And it is the first days of service to a master that are most important!" the servant hysterically reprimanded. "A servant is of no use to a master if they perform a misfortune to them."

"Misfortune?! Saber, you saved our lives! _Twice!_ If anything, we're indebted to _you_, Lavian especially."

"Past success cannot excuse what has already transpired. A servant is meant to serve for the benefit of the master as well as show an example of his epitome. Failure to meet the standard affects the image of the master and-" she gulped, fidgeting nervously. "-And must be rectified by any means."

The more Ramza heard of this, the more it made him grew disgusted of the norm of servants to nobility. He was familiar that many nobles, including his brothers, made use of serfs and maids, but never understood how it affected the psyche of those diligent workers. To see Saber, who admitted she took joy and pride of serving others, breaking down so quickly at the thought of punishment was disturbing and wrong. This wasn't the same confident young woman that fought off the Hokuten or tamed a stampede of chocobos. This was a scared little girl abused by a horrid system. The worst part was the only way she could calm down would be to play this out.

"A common demeanor to the harm of a master would be a hundred lashings," she hesitantly offered.

Ramza frowned in thought. He was unsure how to handle this. Standing in the middle of a river soaked head to toe wasn't exactly a way to-

He blinked in realization, and then slowly nodded. "Very well then; for getting me wet, you too shall share my predicament."

Saber blinked in confusion. "M-master?"

"Ah, a _double_ misdemeanor. Punishment shall begin post haste."

Before she could react, the blond magus playfully shoved her forward. She let out a surprised gasp moments before splashing into the river on her back. Sitting in the shallow water reaching up to her knees, she looked up stunned and further perplexed.

"Granted, if I was a noble wizard, a Water spell would have sufficed to show the full extent of my _humiliation_," Ramza smiled. "But I bear no such ranking other than bearing your command spells. And even if I was, your magic resistance would have made it all but null and avoided punishment."

Saber blinked again.

"And _this-_" he swiped his arm in an arc across the river's surface. The resulting action caused a splash of water to further douse the soaking girl.

"Kyaa!" she cried slightly, holding her arms up in defense. It was to no avail.

"-is for calling me 'Master'," he finished with mirth. "I told you before that my name is Ramza Lugria. Understood?"

The servant continued to stare at him befuddled, but a small smile spread across her lips moments later. "Yes Master." she said, just before realizing her error. "Erm, I mean-!"

"Too late," Ramza splashed her again. "I won't stop until you get my name right."

"But Ramza-!" Splash! "Kyaa!"

"My full name, of course."

"Now you're being unfair!"

"No, I'm acting out on your punishment as you wished." Splash!

She cowered, but found herself giggling. "Please forgive me, Ramza Lugria! Haven't I been punished enough?"

"I say not," he splashed again. "After all, what exactly could you do to stop me otherwise?"

He was given only a brief warning. His servant's face morphed into a smirk and sneer that promised pain. Having recalled such a face on only one other person, Ramza was taken back for a brief moment. It was enough, for she tackled him down to the water. As he rose back up, so did Saber with puffed cheeks full of water. No sooner did she look at him did she squirt the contents at his forehead. His reaction was a stupefied look at her.

"That," she smiled.

The next moments would be a blur as master and servant would engage each other in harmless splashing. All kinds of hand motions hit against the water, and both participates were laughing in good nature. They were without a care in the world, blissfully ignorant of the current matters for a few precious minutes in their water game.

And before either of them knew it, they caught the attention of six other individuals. Noting the stares, Ramza and Saber awkwardly waded out the river trying to reclaim their dignity. The other Shadow Company mercs, having woken up and witnessed enough of the 'show', shot knowing looks to their wizard. The Lionsguard looked conflicted, and gossiped if Saber was really a hero if she acted so quickly like a child.

Agrias, however, stared at them both tense and annoyed; ready to bite either of their heads off. "I hope you two had enough of your fun now," she said evenly.

Both Ramza and Saber squirmed uneasily under her gaze. Lavian spoke out for them. "Milady, you don't have to be so harsh with them. No one was really hurt-"

"Except for Ovelia who is still kidnapped!" Agrias snapped. Everyone, even Gafgarion, flinched at her harsh tone. "We don't have time to behave like children! The princess is just a day away from Bethla Garrison! If we fail to rescue her at Zirekile Falls, this whole journey will be for naught!"

A few minutes later, everyone remounted their chocobos and followed the stream. The rest of the journey was silent with uneasy tension.

* * *

"Why did you send him to Zirekile?"

Mesdoram Elmdor, Marquis of Limberry, paused in the middle of his kata. His right hand held a grayish blade with a red hilt and guard, raised just above his head in the pattern of swinging down in front of him. The silver-haired noble wore a majority of black clothes from top to bottom, save for the golden shoulder guards holding his cape together.

Elmdor lowered his training sword to regard the man watching him. Whereas the noble was expressive with grace and looks, his guest radiated fear and power to those below him. His most distinctive features were his tanned skin, short yet sharp looking facial hair marked as thin lines on his face, and his dark hair was held up to a thick top knot at an angle behind his head. Instead of his usual armor, he wore a white gi under a green vest with his clan symbol near the tips of the shoulders, and knelled a good distance away from the training hall inside of Limberry Castle. Elmdor himself, lord of said castle, stood in the center of the hall.

"The princess has been kidnapped by men not known to the South Sky, let alone the North, yet they march dangerously close our territory," the Marquis answered. "It was in my best interest to send him to scout and make sure these weren't just conspirers thinking to bribe Duke Goltanna. Intercepting them at Zirekile Falls was the best course of option before they reach the fort."

"I agree it is a sound act of judgment," the man admitted. "But my _question_ was why you sent _him_?"

"A few key reasons," Mesdoram answered. "He's made amazing progress in his trials over the last year, and whatever experiences he gained outside of Limberry has changed him. He's always been ambitious, which is both a blessing and bother considering his family's status before. He's without a doubt one of my strongest knights and is very versatile in all the skills he picked up on both melee and magic vocations. But most of all, he's a magus, and in the case of the kidnappers acquiring a servant of their own, Berserker would be more than enough to 'nip the bud', as they say."

"It is somewhat amusing that vassal of yours summoned such a Heroic Spirit. From what I recall of his legend, he was so powerful and arrogant he couldn't stop himself from killing and betraying his lords until he faced his ironic end. It is an odd fortune he was summoned as Berserker; he has no sanity to plan a coup this time around."

"It all depends on his master's mana to constantly keep that in check," Elmdor reminded. "But yes, he will be of good use to us for the war."

The exotic man smiled a bit. "Yes, the war… it has been a while since I've lead an army of soldiers to bring about a new era. Times are changing again, for both Ivalice and the Holy Grail. I find myself fortunate secrecy is irrelevant now, and that I can raise an army again."

"I understand you're eager to fight Rider, but let us wait. We will act accordingly when needed, but for now there is no rush to this war."

"Perhaps," the servant Rider agreed. "But if what you say about the princess is true, than the whole war may hinge on her survival… or lack of."

"Agreed," Elmdor nodded. "But for now…" he turned to his servant, already prepped up from his warm-ups. "Care for a match to pass the time, Rider?"

"Surely you jest, Master," Rider smiled, yet stood up and walked across the hall all the same. "You have already proven to me your strength as a conquering lord the day we met. What's more, you're not bearing your Genji equipment."

"Before I summoned you, I was kidnapped by a band of commoners planning to use me for ransom. It was a shame to my men failing to protect me, but also in my own inability. It is my hope to avoid a similar situation again in any circumstance, especially if I'm a Master."

"A sound precaution," Rider nodded. "Very well-"

In a flash of light, his clothes were replaced with a white cuirass over chainmail, silver greaves, a red tattered cape, and a face guard with spikes growing out to the sides. In one of his gauntlets held a beautifully crafted katana, held by a leather grip over the black sheath and with a white guard holding the blade inside. The entire lining of the blade was decorated in gold, and several golden flower symbols were spotted along the flat of the sheath.

"Allow me to test your conviction and strength once again on your terms," He finished with an eager smirk.

Elmdor mirrored the expression as his sword started to glow. "Have at you!"

* * *

Zirekile Falls. A majestic sight with water flowing down a jagged stairway of clefts, dividing the land between the Lesalia and Gallione regions as the water flowed towards Lionel. A single wooden plank bridge was the connection to both regions. The bridge offered a brilliant vantage point to the waterfall looming above and the misty chasm below.

No one that arrived to these falls today was there to appreciate the normally beautiful site. The bridge was flanked on both ends by nothing short of an army of knights. It was initially supposed to be a simple platoon of just knights, but the news of a very potent spell-caster amongst their party forced them to triple their numbers, with a few priests to act as relief medics.

And yet no one could get close to their target because of a holy knight in their way.

_"Statis Sword!"_

His blade of steel was swung to the ground with a bluish hue, before a quartet of crystalline swords emerged from bellow. Having seen the action in time, a knight quickly stepped back before his stomach was pierced. Two of his comrades weren't as lucky and took the blunt of the spell art. One managed to reassert himself despite fatigue, but the other shortly collapsed on the grass, literally knocked out cold.

Just opposite of that spot of land, a pair of knights were dueling swords with a near-shirtless man in a kilt to a standstill. Only the knights were bothered by this unending bout; their opponent merely smirked and focused on blocking until they tired themselves out. His body was enchanted with protection, and would gradually heal his wounds in time or from a chemist throwing potions. They tried to rush the white mage, chemist and princess, but the geomancer was clearly set on keeping them at bay.

And that wasn't even to account for the bloody _witch_ that was overseeing both sides of the conflict. _Speaking of which, where was-_

A black bullet struck each knight in their caped backs. The force was as strong as a goblin's tackle and as disorienting as an oracle's hex. Their grips slacked on their shields and swords, and their legs nearly buckled from sudden fatigue. The only thing keeping them standing was steadfast willpower to the fight. However, that meant little when the geomancer harnessed the earth itself to entrap them both into clay statues.

The lead Hokuten knight glowered with frustration. The battle had been drawn out for several hours now, and they were no closer to getting the princess from her captors. More of his men continued to die, and some were beyond the work of the prayers of their priests. It was embarrassing enough that one knight, most likely the master, was holding one end of the bridge flawlessly on his own.

"This battle is futile!" he bellowed. "Your party can't hope to hold back our forces, let alone best them. Release the princess and you'll be spared!"

While he did admit the battle was futile, he expressed it towards their resistance. It was a half-truth, and he knew from firsthand experience that a well-played bluff could mean the difference between victory and defeat.

The holy knight, Delita, scoffed, while keeping himself set in front of the bridge "A convincing lie, but we all know you have no wish to see any of us leave Zirekile alive. Or was I just imagining your apparent focus to the rope and logs either side of me?"

The captain scowled deeper, biting back a curse. If given enough time, resources, and manpower, they could have simply cut the bridge down and have the Princess drown along with her abductors. But the man and his witch caught on to his plan quickly enough and have thus far pushed them out from getting too close.

"It was a valiant effort, nonetheless," Delita admitted. "You would succeed in not only your primary objective, but silence whatever witnesses would have spoken out to your crime otherwise."

The knight didn't bother to deny his goal to him, if only for the fact they would have to be killed anyway. "Anything to get her away from the Black Lion's clutches."

Ovelia shivered under the leer of the Hokuten and tentatively stepped back from the bridge, more towards the center. She dared not to look down at the mist of white covering the bottom of the falls, least fear of falling directly into it. Claire went to her, holding the princess' hands for comfort as Monica glanced between them and Luke, vigilantly holding the bridge end leading back to Lesalia.

He glanced to the back end of the bridge, where his servant left towards in astral form to set up whatever plan she decided on. She at least gave the time to assist Luke whenever the fight grew a bit intense. Whatever she planned, it was going to be big, and help clear a path for them. They just needed to wait and hold the bridge._ Caster, I hope you know what you're doing._

* * *

Unknown to the participants down below, the chocobo riders reached their destination to the end of the river, and stood atop of the waterfall. Saber and Agrias dismounted first and knelt to the edge for a better view. Ramza and Gafgarion joined their sides respectively, and the others stood back behind them.

"We found Princess Ovelia," Agrias sighed with relief.

"As well as her welcoming party," Gaff said ominously. "They must be hopping mad to try and stop that man."

"Delita..." Ramza whispered, feeling an odd mix of relief and worry seeing his friend again.

"Ramza, you said your friend was the master of Caster, correct?" Saber asked. Her expression was... tense, for a lack of a better word.

"I heard the title only once," he admitted. "But I also saw her first hand and know she's very capable of aria-less spells."

"Well Ramza," the dark knight smirked. "Either you're losing your touch, or she was a very deadly priest in her day."

"Priest?" the Lugria-Beoulve blinked. He caught wind of Gaff's jest when seeing Claire next to Ovelia. "No, that one isn't Caster. She's Claire, a white mage that helped us-back with the Hokuten I mean."

"Well, then, where is she?" Agrias asked urgently.

Ramza scanned the area, trying to read the surrounding mana like when he found Saber's catalyst at Orbonne Monastery. "She's somewhere but-" he stopped himself, frowning. He focused again, particularly on the sudden pair of anomalies closing in dangerously fast; from two different directions no less.

"So you noticed too," his servant stated. Ramza grimly nodded.

"Noticed what?" Agrias asked.

Ramza and Saber didn't get the chance to answer. What they were about to see would be answer enough.

* * *

A blue and white flash appeared between three knights, flanking their sides and back. Delita himself barely caught sight of the flash, but definitely heard the words that followed after.

"Legendary sword that kills freely! _Spirit Blade!_"

A long curved sword was drawn from its sheath. The blade was of white steel and a dark blue guard. The moment the sword was drawn, it burst into flames along its blade. Thin lines of the flames lashed out like whips and struck the knights surrounding it. Their screams were quick and brief, falling to the ground as they slowly burned to death. The sword wielder ignored them and withdrew his blade into his sheath… or rather, one of three sheaves.

Delita could only see the back of the man's crouched back, bearing a suit of red chained armor with reinforced blades over the shoulders and a rust red helmet covering the top and sides of his head. He had three swords strapped to his side, each tilted in a different angle due to cluttering. He vaguely recalled this as the traditional armor of the samurai, special warriors that hail from Limberry. The newcomer's voice was male, at least, spoken vey defiant and proud, with a touch of anger. It was startling... yet familiar.

"An army unit to go after a kidnapper of the princess and the master of the servant Caster," the samurai said slowly, rising to a full stand. "A rather interesting rumor; one that imply it was performed by some lord or noble feeling ambitious. Never did I think it would be you, Delita Hyral."

The holy knight felt a chill on his neck, but ignored it. "My reputation perceives me, I suppose," he shrugged.

"I suppose it does," the samurai agreed. "I stand corrected then, on how commoners could never amount to anything. After all, last we met you were merely a whipped dog of the house of Beoulves with your late sister... before the fire of course."

Delita froze and paled. He held his breath as the man in red slowly turned around to acknowledge him, clicking his metal armor slightly. Just behind him, he heard two gasps, reminding him this was indeed real.

His face was horribly burnt on the right side of his face, leaving a skin coloration of reddish pink foreskin. His right eye was nearly swollen shut, half his lip was the same as his face, but he could still see yellow hair growing out under the helmet. His brown eyes also bore a very familiar sense of superiority and power, as if his own word was law.

Delita tried to deny it, that the man standing before him was an example of an impossibility, much like his own. But against all odds, he survived, for fate deemed to be cruel and spared him as well. All that mattered was now, and that he was standing face to face to Teta's killer once more.

Algus Sadalfas was still alive.

* * *

Saber turned to her master in worry. No sooner did the enemy arrive, he acted more tense and ragged. When he saw the face, he paled considerably and had lost his breath.

"Ramza?" she asked.

Agrias and Gafgarion, as well as their other vassals, looked at him as well. The dark knight moved over and shook his shoulder a couple times to knock him out of his trance. "What's wrong, boy?"

"Impossible," he whispered to himself. He seemed unaware of the attention he was receiving. _How…? I killed him myself!_

* * *

"I took you for dead," Delita frowned, resuming their conversation in deadpan.

"I'm also surprised. I would have thought you'd have no reason to keep on living and would have died alongside your sister. I'm sure she would have been accepted somewhere in the heavens. It's better than living amongst nobility like a foreign animal."

Delita's only reaction was a clenched fist. Luke, having been just as silent as him, was more vocal. "Why you-!"

"Luke, calm down!" _Stick to the plan._

Luke quickly looked back to the main land to see the squad of knights edging slightly closer. They were still in the middle of fighting another army, after all. Reluctantly, the geomancer stayed from his side of the bridge, keeping a feral growl in check. He still caught the samurai's attention.

"Luke? Ah yes; you're the wizard of Ramza's troupe. Why, nearly everyone is here except those that perished in Ziekden, unless Ramza himself also went into hiding."

"What makes you think Ramza's still alive?" Delita asked in mock surprise.

"If you're here, and I'm here," Algus gestured between the two of them. "Then I see no reason why he shouldn't have survived either. He's arguably the strongest one between the three of us, especially concerning his noble standing."

"Everything's just power and connections, isn't it?" Claire leered.

The Limberry samurai chuckled. "It has gotten me this far, and I have almost restored all the honor my family has lost since the 50 Year War. I am now one of Marquis Elmdor's esteemed knights. Which reminds me-"

He walked closer to Delita in slow steps, giving the remaining knights behind him some breathing space from his swords. His superior smile was still beaming. "I admit, I wasn't all too fond of what happened, but I forgive you for acting out of turn last year. Teta died a noble cause though, I assure you." Noting how Delita's glare intensified, he smoothly but quickly changed topic. "The Marquis also wished to extend his thanks to you and Ramza, for helping me save him and purging the Death Corps once and for all. I believe I understand your situation, so allow me to ease up the tension for you a bit, for old time's sake."

Algus finally acknowledged Ovelia, smiling with a different demeanor and intent than what he expressed with Delita. He then bowed low to show his respect. "My dear Princess Ovelia, it has shamed me to hear what has happened to you these past few days. My name is Algus Sadalfas, and I came on the Marquis' order to rescue you as soon as I was able."

Ovelia glanced between him and the others, unsure what to think. Algus seemed to be acting like a true gentleman, in spite of the past blood with Delita. In turn, he and his companions were regarding him with veiled hostility and disbelief, with Claire and Monica standing especially close to her sides. Just what happened between the five of them?

"I understand that you are in Delita's company," he added. "But it is hardly befitting of a princess to travel among commoners, especially when they're likely to die in this fight. Come with me; Elmdore is one of Goltana's most trusted allies. He'll allow you to see an audience with the duke. I'll even see to it that Delita and the others are spared."

The holy knight doubted he would seriously consider that, but in the end it was Ovelia's decision. Looking between the others indecisively, she eventually stared back at Algus' half-burned face.

"I… appreciate the offer, Sir Algus," she managed.

"Excellent."

"But-" Ovelia quickly added. "I must decline. I wish to travel with Delita just a bit longer."

The sound of the falls was unusually loud and unbearable from before.

"Your highness, I really must insist," Algus forced a smile. "A princess has no need or benefit from staying with the company of commoners more than necessary."

"I believe, as princess," Ovelia replied. "That I'm entitled to whom I deem worthy of my company. I have not known these people very long, true, and a part of me still refuses to see Duke Goltana. But if I must see him, I'd prefer it in the company of these fine men and women than another noble stranger."

"But-"

"Technically the princess' word is above that of a nobleman's," Delita smirked. "Even yours, Algus."

For a moment, the blond samurai glowered in frustration, almost ready to lash out at everyone around him. The fact his hand was twitch too close to one of his sword hilts was evident. But the moment passed, he sighed, and turned away. "Never say I didn't try to solve this civilly."

The knight captain finally had enough and snapped at them, directing their attention to him. "If you're done making negotiations, just hand over the Princess _now_ if you have any wish to live!"

"I best you search to preserve your own life instead of offer demands," the samurai countered. "You lack the men to survive this fight."

"No Limberry samurai, despite his skill, can hold back all of the North Sky's finest!"

Algus smirked. "But Berserker can."

Not a moment was given to express the sudden fear and dread to hear that class title. No preparation was made to counter the gold and black halberd appearing like a ghost and piercing a knight's torso. No one realized the reality of the situation moments after the towering hoplite swung his weapon as simply as a stick before slamming it, along with the still pierced knight, down to another.

No scream of fear and horror was made until his own roar of bloodlust.

* * *

"_What in Lucavi's name is that_?!" Lavian cried. "He looks like some sort of undead super soldier!"

"Berserker," Saber answered evenly. "He's a servant that's driven to insanity for power. A servant of that class is one of the most powerful and dangerous ones to fight in any Holy Grail War."

"You can tell just by looking at him?" Lavian asked Saber.

"Judging by his weapon skill and evident rage, he could've only been summoned as either that or a Lancer."

They all watched as the exotic armored giant, with bronze skin and pupil-less white eyes, turned so swiftly his red hair tails whipped back to continue his vicious assault. His pole arm extended out to slash across the knights, parrying to no avail, and tore through their shields and breastplates in moments. Their bodies crumbled, and the monstrous man roared, forcing the bodies into crystalline state ahead of time and molded into his body in a glowing aura. If that wasn't enough, the man's body started to grow slightly in size for each crystal soul accumulated. The remaining knights degraded into a blind panic, either charging at him or fleeing for their lives.

"That's no Lancer," Rad declared. "That's a _monster._"

"A growing one, at that," Alicia added. "At this rate he might tower over the entire area!"

Fiona shivered, lifting her shield in hopes of hiding behind it. "I've got a _bad_ feeling about this…"

Without warning, Ramza pushed aside the female knights to his chocobo. "He-hey!"

Gaff caught his arm just before he saddled himself. "What's gotten into you, boy?"

"The princess is gone!" he yelled between jerks.

The Lionsguard all paled at once. "_WHAT?!_" They, along with Saber and Shadow Company, gazed back down to the bridge. Truth be told, Ovelia and the samurai she was talking with were both gone, and it seemed not even Delita's group knew what happened.

"How did this happen?!" Agrias cried. Too soon did they finally find the princess and once again she was whisked away!

"He knows how to Teleport," the magus answered. "It's a time magic skill that allows the user to jump distances and barriers with just a thought, but limited to the body's own stamina. He couldn't have gotten far though; if we hurry we can stop him before he escapes the falls!"

"Caster, Berserker, Teleporting… well that clinches it." Gaff mumbled, before turning to Rad and Saber with Ramza beside him. "Shadow Company, mount your chocobos and make back for Dorter. We're leaving."

Everyone stared at him in shock. The Lionsguard appeared betrayed, Saber stared blankly, and Ramza looked like he had the wind knocked out of him. Rad looked the least appalled of the notion, but was all the same confused.

"But what about the job, my lord?" Rad asked aloud.

"The job was over the moment Berserker arrived. It's one thing to chase after her kidnappers, but fighting against servants? I'm a mercenary, not an idiot!"

"We have Saber!" said Lavian. "She's a servant too!"

"_Ramza_ has Saber," Gaff corrected. "Because she only listens to him, who is under my charge, and I'm not going to take a chance on fighting someone who isn't above draining souls for energy. Even as we speak the monster grows like a weed!"

Agrias face flushed in rage. "I can't say I'm not surprised by this; I always knew you were a dirty coward."

"If chivalry means to fight blindly against a giant that can kill men as simply as a common goblin," the dark knight countered. "You can have it and all its entails."

"Do you not feel any duty or concern to the princess' safety? For Ajora's sake, she's of the royal family!"

"The difference between you and me is that I work a _job_ to make ends meet while _you_ have the _obligation_ to the royal family. You blindly swear fealty to them without question, and should anything happen to her, you're their scapegoat. The only loss I would have would be of gil, which can be rectified in time with another job. Much more simple than your blind _honor_, no?"

The holy knight stomped her boot down, barely containing her emotions to draw her blade on the man. "Fine, then! We'll save the princess ourselves! As I said before, we don't need help from mercenaries! Lavian! Alicia! Fiona! Come!"

Gaff watched with bemusement as the Lionsguard mounted their chocobos. "You're making a mistake, Oaks," he warned. "Princess Ovelia isn't the _only_ one legible to the crown. If anything, her death would make Prince Orinas ruler by default and settle the dispute with Larg and Goltanna. To kill her now would be a mercy, and spare her from another's game of chess!"

"Then it is a mercy I will not see her done!" Agrias countered, and kicked her chocobo's thigh. "Barbariccia! Hiyah!"

"_Kweeeh!_" her chocobo cried once before pulling back for speed. The chocobo galloped through the water itself, the water depth doing nothing to slow her pedaling speed, before jumping off the edge of the falls without fear. Agrias kept a cool head the whole time, determined to find Ovelia, as her mount jumped from wet rock to wet rock on the gradual descent of the waterfall. Lavian, Alicia, and Fiona were just behind her, riding Sandy, Mindy, and Cindy respectively.

"Good riddance. Now let us be off."

"Not without the princess," Ramza said, just mounting on Locke.

"Forget the princess, boy!" Gafgarion snapped. "The job is suicide now! You have no obligation-!"

"I have _every _obligation. Delita and the others are still my comrades. A servant is endangering them. And most of all, the man that killed Teta is still alive, and I'll be _damned_ to see someone suffer her same fate again."

The dark knight blinked in honest surprise. This was the first he'd seen his wizard acted so seriously and resolute. Most of the time it was himself picking up the pace of their troupe, but it seemed the noble Beoulve charisma that he's heard so much about was stirring inside him.

He watched mutely as Ramza urged his rein-less chocobo down the rocky road, the side where Berserker loomed. Moments later, Saber joined after him, leaving him alone with his unsure squire.

Gaff Gafgarion merely watched the battle unfold below, his expression unreadable.

* * *

_Damn it, a Berserker of all servants? This early in the war?!_

Caster had nearly finished her preparations for the once one-sided battle, but before she could get to her master, some blond samurai flop showed up. Watching from the bottom of the waterfall, and out of astral form to prevent any more prana(/mana) loss, she stood concealed from under the bridge on a few rocks near waist deep water. Planning to jump in and inform her master of her plan, she instead found herself contemplating what to do.

It wasn't that he intimidated her; she was trying to decide what would be a most suitable spell to obliterate him with. First impressions alone, she had taken back every mental judgment she made on Luke and found the blond armored man to be a _much_ more insufferable being.

It was the lapse of judgment that she didn't consider he was a magus as well. Most likely a fake one though, using Berserker on a loan; wouldn't be the first time that happened in a Holy Grail War. _Not that this makes the situation any easier… can't believe I let him off my eyes off her for a minute!_

Time magic in Ivalice was actually of moderate level, just below summon magic. Caster once considered the possibility it developed from The Fifth Magic, breaking down a True Magic from the list, but had long since disregarded the thought. Ironic as it was, time mages could be just as deadly as any other common day mage of trade, but the time taking to learn their arts was taxing.

It wasn't even really time travel, but altering the body to faster and slower speeds, or altering reality to make a person Float or hold down foes with gravity. The closest time magic could get to its True Magic namesake, rumored or not, was suspended animation of the body via Stop.

But it still caught her off guard the man managed to perform a perfect Teleport, and cleverly during his own servant's rampage. In hindsight, if he learned to be a summoner, he had to have had some experience with time magic, being a requirement or so she heard. Now she would just have to take to consideration of what _other_ skills he knew.

Just as she was searching for Ovelia and her new abductor, she felt a presence coming dangerously fast towards her. _Another servant!_

Recalling her years of life-or-death situations, as well as her routine martial arts exercise, was what saved her from the surprise attack. Her jump was less graceful than she recalled years before, splashing head first into the water, but managed to avoid an explosion of water from the rock she just stood on.

She barely got time to brush the water off her hair with her trademark backhand brush when hearing an annoyed yet disturbingly familiar grunt. "Heh, for a Caster you sure are quick on your feet. Too bad you're up against _me _though."

The figure, which she identified as the new servant, marched into view from the mist and smoke from his attack. For one thing, the man was tall; perhaps a bit on the lithe side, but not without muscle. His body was covered mostly in what appeared to be a blue form fitting body suit. In his hand held a long blood red lance with a fine sharp point, and by first glance looked like a pole than a lance. No doubt it was the weapon he used against her. His blue haired face betrayed his annoyed comment with a feral smirk under his bright red eyes.

Caster grimaced, further cursing her luck. It couldn't be just any Lancer, but the one with the one-hit kill Noble Phantasm? _This is bad… very bad._

Lancer tilted his head to the side, as if noticing her for the first time. "Have we met somewhere before? You look awfully familiar."

The female servant blinked once. "Familiar how, exactly?"

"I get this Scathach vibe from you, which is weird because you look nothing like her or her twin Aife. Another apprentice, perhaps?"

Caster couldn't help but to chuckle. "It would do you no good to hit on the enemy, Lancer; especially when you'll forget it before the war's end."

Lancer stared at her a moment longer, particularly on her 'innocent' smile. In sudden realization, he brightened and snapped his fingers. "That's right! Back at Fuyuki! You were Archer's master in the last war; Tohsaka Rin!"

Her smile dropped instantly. It was replaced with a startled gap and dreaded feeling in the pit of her stomach. He wasn't supposed to remember anything of the last Fuyuki War! "H-how did you-?!"

"I'm honestly surprised _you_ were summoned as a servant," he added, ignorant of her worries. "But you must have pulled off something pretty ballsy to be one of us. So, congratulations on your part, _Caster_!"

Still in good cheer, and with a slight touch of bloodlust, Lancer slid into battle stance with his weapon aimed at her. "Now, let's see how great of a Heroic Spirit you're _really_ are."

* * *

A/N: Finally we get to the Servant Battles but the build-up to it took longer than I though, as usual. Still, bet you weren't expected Elmdor or even Algus being magi. Algus and Shinji have so many similarities its not even funny. The Holy Grail War needs villains after all, so I gave him an early back-from-the-dead situation than the PSP port did, and with a longer lasting role outside the cadet days.

So, coming up next, Saber, Caster, Lancer, and Berserker (plus a lot of human fighters) in a free for all Battle on the Bridge over a Waterfall. A warning though; it'll be a slow update again, now that college is in full swing. See you all then.


End file.
